iii^ 




ill 






n>/ 




UnUiMIAl 





^^^W^fMi^"^^ 



ROMANCE OF Till-: MALM-: COAST 



Casco Bay — Series L 
Ancient Your — Series 11. In Press. 
Tin: SoKOKi Trail — Series 111. 
Pemaquid — Series IV. 
The Land of St. Castin — Seiies V. 
Series 111, 1\ , \'; in Prcparalion. 




THE AUTHOR 



MAINE COAST ROMANCE 



W IRomance of 
Caeco Bay 

HERBKRl- MII/rON SYLV^KSTKR 




BOSTON 
Stanhope iprc55 



LlBRAKYot CONGRESSJ 


Two CoDiab 


tieceivea 


NOV 17 


J9U4 


Copynijiii tiitiy 
(ShA. 3. iQo^ 
CLASS ou XXc. Noi 

COPY B. 



r""^"^ 



c^ 



s^ 



(■..pyri^'ln. l;i(H. by lliilicit M. Sylvester 
All liijlits ix-s.Tve.l 



ATTiioirs i;i)rri()N 

This edition is liinitcd to one llunisaiid copies printed 
from the type. This is No. 



TO TIIK 

Hon. JAMES P. 15AXTEK 

]S insci<ii5p:i» 

YK ROMANCE OE CASCO 15AY 

J!Y THE AITHOK 



INTRODUCTION 




INTRODUCTIOX 

'HERE is an antique and familiar 

proverb that "Truth is stranger 

than fiction," which is nearly 

enough equivalent to saying 

that History is more romantic 

than Fable. One is more and 

more reminded of the validity 

./,.S'<'^^ of this proverb, as he familiar- 

Ifvi^of izes himself with the Past, and 

explores its shadowy chambers 

once thronged with life, as full of all the 

passions, good and bad, as is the life of the 

11 




12 INTRODUCTION 

Present, upon which we dote, chnging to it 
as though its transition from this sphere of 
hght and l)eauty meant eternal darkness 
and o]:)hvion. 

The world, however, barring that portion 
which certain dogmatists have entitled the 
saving remnant, meaning thereby those who 
tliink, docs not realize this; being, as Carlyle 
says, purblind and nli'cady dead to all save 
food and drhik and like creature comforts; 
hence it cares no more for the stori(Ml Past, 
rich 

''\\'itli plume tiani and all bravo array," 

than the mole that burrows beneath the 
boulder which is a marvel to a Geikie or 
Lyell. 

It is owing to this condition that History 
has been neglected so long by the masses, 
who have deemed it only a garner of dry 
materials for the use of experts whose tastes 
they have regarded as wholly abnormal. Oc- 
casion;illy some genius like Shakespeare and 
Scott has explored this storehouse, and 
dragged forth into the light of day things of 
so much beaut v tlial tlicv have excited as 



INTRODUCTIOX 13 

much as they were capable of being excited, 
the gaping admiration of Carlyle's purblind 
folk, but while this is a subject of thanks- 
giving, its real effect upon the world at large 
was fleeting, and it was not imtil that wizard, 
Parkman, explored the obscure recesses of our 
own American History, and lorought its ro- 
mance to light, that the dull world began to 
scratch its stupid pate and realize ever so 
dimly, that there was in History something 
of which it had never dreamed. There can 
be no doubt that Parkman's magic pen has 
done more to awaken a popular interest in 
American History than the pens of all tlie 
writers since its discovery by the Venetian. 
So much of the romance of history did he re- 
veal to the world, that the writers of fiction 
were cjuick to realize the pro^Trb which 
heads this wanting, and for several years, the 
historical novel has held even the i:)url)lind 
folk of the old dogmatists spelll)ound, and 
it begins to appear as though, in time, they 
may all become part and parcel of that 
''Saving remnant" whose novel title seemed 
to mean so much more than it expressed. 



14 IXTRODUCTION 

It will be seen from this that the writer, 
though he has confined liis own efforts to the 
less attractive field of reseai-ch, is interested 
in the Romance of History, and recognizes 
the great value of the efforts of those who 
have entered this difficult field in order to 
make its treasures available to the multi- 
tude. To perform the woik well, however, 
requires poetic genius, and he who does not 
possess this divine facility in a fair degree, 
may as well forego the task, for he will suicly 
be disappointed of success if he enters the 
inviting prc^'incts with unwinged feet. 

I conceive that to define the exact relation 
of the writer of the Romance of History to 
the Historian proper is unnecessary here. 
His sphere of oj)eration, however, is more 
fascinating than the Historian's, since it per- 
mits him to exercise^ his imagination with 
considerable freedom, a faculty which he 
should abundantly possess, for he must re- 
people the empty scenes of the j)nsl with 
living charactei's, and make them play their 
parts acceptably to the most exacting critics, 
for the writei- of the l^omance of Historv 



JXTRODUCTION 15 

must perforce be a poet, and should possess 
the true afflatus, for the poet, we all know 
is one who after the divine example is a 
creator, who gives to his creatures, not form 
and color alone, but the vital spark. 

The romance of our own History, until 
within a few years, has been neglected, per- 
haps on account of the restricti\'e influences 
which Puritanism exercised ui)on it in its 
early years, for the Puritan regarded the 
imagination as a dangerous faculty, which 
should be figuratively consigned to the stocks 
if it disported itself in any but theological 
fields, fenced in with its own pointed pickets. 
Xot that the Puritan really lacked imagina- 
tion, as we see in the case of Anne Bradstreet, 
and even Cotton Mathel', who lived altogether 
in an imaginary world; indeed, Puritanism 
possessed imagination and all good equalities 
in abundance, only it did not allow their 
exercise except on rare occasions. Haw- 
thorne has shown us the possibilities of the 
Puritan in fiction as Boughton has in paint- 
ing, and Longfellow in poetry; so that we 
have recently become aware that Xew Eng- 



16 INTRODUCTIOX 

land, after all our misgivings, possesses a his- 
tory as full of romance as one could desire; 
and when the author of this book informed 
me that he proposed to give to the world 
some of the romance of New England Histor}^, 
I told him that he would find as attractive a 
subject as he could desire, and the work 
which he has produced proves it. 

In his Romance of Casco Bay, Mr. S3dvester 
shows what an attractive field this subject 
offers to the artist. He has not at all ex- 
hausted the subject; he did not intend to do 
so; indeed, he has only given us a fragment 
of what realh' exists in this not-soon-to-be 
exhausted mine. In his treatment of his 
subjects ^Ir. Sylvester is thoroughly original, 
and his facile i:)encil has added a charm to 
his narrative which his readers cannot fail to 
appreciate. He has the true instinct of the 
artist, and one nuist be dull, indeed, who 
does not recognize the charm of his work. If 
he has eri-ed at all, it has been on the side of 
historic accuracy, and he has not allowed his 
exuberant fancy sufficient play, for it should 
])v understood that he is not intending to 



INTRODUCTION 



17 



record historic facts alone — that he leaves 
to the historian — but to group together in- 
cidents in history and present them as Uving 
pictures to his readers. 

JAMES PHINNEY BAXTER. 





PREFACE 



E Romance of Casco Bay is a book of 

free-hand sketches. Truthful enough 

in their setting and local coloring, 

they are not offered to the public as 

history, but appear here much as did 

their originals to the author when he 

saw them from day to day, and 

when more familiar with the purlieus 

of Casco Bay than has been his good 

fortune in later years. These old 

things have the fascinating mystery 

fe.. and romance of bygone days, and a 

_^ bygone race; and are not the less 

delightful to recall because they look 

out over a sheet of water, the beauty and charm of 

which are unrivalled by any other part of the Maine 

Coast, — a sea-front unequalled by any other from 

19 




20 



PREFACE 



Quoddy Head to St. August iiie, in its wild, stormy 
grandeur and windy headlands, or in its countless 
islands and roadsteads asleep in its summer sunshine. 

THE AUTHOR. 




f^ 




and:marks 



PrcliKle. 

Cascoe. 

Stogunimor. 

A Relic. 

Harrow House. 

A Wayside Inn. 

ki\ Okl Fish-Yard. 

Mount joy's Island. 

The Wizard of Casco. 

The Troll of Richnion's Island. 

The Passing of Bagnall. 



f^A 




Portrait of Author Frontispi 

Headband, Cape Elizabeth 

Tailpiece, Menikoe 

Headband, Cape Porpoise 

Tailpiece 

Initial 

Headband, Illustrations 

Tailpiece 

Headband, Old Tukey Bridge 

Initial 

Map of Casco 

Glen Cliff 

A Fisher Hut 

Longfellow's Birthplace 

Simonton Oove 

Fort Gorges 

Old Fort Halifax 

23 



Page 

ece 

11 

17 
19 
20 
21 
23 



.35 
35 
36 
38 
41 
44 
53 
56 
64 



24 ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

An Old Garrison House 67 

A Bit of Dcering Park 69 

The Bay 73 

Th' Cox House 74 

The McLellan Ilouftc 75 

A Fruiterer 77 

The Harbor 78 

Off Martin's Point 80 

Tailpiece, Bird Island Light 82 

Headband, A Glimpse of Scarboroui/Ji 85 

Initial 85 

Aulof/rophs, Gorges, Cleeve, and Tucker 86 

Norombegua 92 

Rasl/'s Chapel Bell 94 

A Bit of Spurwinke 96 

Black Point 96 

To Pine Point 97 

Near Staniford Ledge lOO 

A Fine Old Town 101 

Pur Poodack 102 

Tailpiece, Cleeve Monument 103 

Headband, Ye Burijing-ground 107 

Initial 107 

Fore River 109 

The Old Shipyard 112 

The Bridge Over the Canal 113 

The Saltmill 11.") 

Odd Peaked Gables 116 

Some Quaint Headstones 118 

The Means Sideboard 120 

The Tate House 122 

Door of Tate House 124 

The Buffet 126 

An Old Sawmill 130 



ILLUSTRATIONS 25 

Paoe 

The Tate HomcMcad 134 

Haunted 135 

Tail-piece 136 

Headband, The Glimm<rin(i T,d(-river 139 

Initial 139 

The Grist-mill 140 

The Meadow 144 

A Vision of Harrow House 145 

The Site of Harrow House 146 

The Raslf Copper Spoon 147 

The King's Arrow 148 

The Raslc Treasure Chest 151 

Fickett House 153 

Patrick House 154 

Crucifix found at Norridejewack 155 

The Westhrook Trencher 158 

From the Windows 159 

The Spinning-wJieel 1 62 

Tailpiece 163 

Headband, an English Inn 167 

Initial, Broad Tavern Sign 167 

Shadowy Eaves 168 

An Old Rookery 170 

Approach to Broad Tavern 171 

The First Sign of The Broads 174 

Broad Tavern 177 

Bradley Church and Parsonage 1S2 

Wayside Inn, Sudbury 182 

Corner of an Old Kitchen 183 

An Ancient Hostelry 186 

An Old Flaxu'hcel 190 

Tailpiece 194 

Headband, An Old Fishyard 197 

Initial 197 



26 ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

.4 Fish-house 200 

A Lobster Cannery 202 

Lobster Grounds 204 

Wrecked 208 

Site of Greele Tavern 211 

The Old Elm Tavern 212 

Scammell 214 

Portland Head 218 

Trefethren's 223 

A Fishing Schooner 226 

A Banker 228 

Tailpiece 231 

Headband, Along the »Sa/u/.s 235 

Initial 235 

Jones's 236 

An Old Settler 238 

One of Nature's Court-yards 241 

An Island Road 243 

Monhcgan 249 

Tailpiece, Island Cottages 253 

Headband, Sand Dunes 257 

Initial 257 

In Trouble 260 

A Sternly-featured Face 261 

The Low-roofed Farmhouse 264 

On the Rocks 269 

Alewive Brook 273 

A Bit of Scarborough 278 

From Wells to York 286 

The W itch-trot t 289 

Beadle's Tavern 291 

A Corner of Old Salem 297 

Pai-ris' Pasture 302 

On tJie Road to Quamphegan 307 



ILLUSTRATIONS 27 

Page 

Tailpiece 313 

Headband, A Bit of Richnion's Island 317 

Initial 307 

Casco Bay, Scarborough Marsh 319 

Oyi the Edge of the Marsh 321 

Along Shore 323 

A Bit of Jie Old Country 332 

Tailpiece 333 

Headband, Among the Dunes 337 

Initial ;j37 

White Head 340 

Richmon's Island 3-iO 

Ebb-tide 341 

A Sketch 343 

Tailpiece 348 




4)(etcy^ 




PRELUDE 



The sea in the offinji, white with foam, 

Breaks over tlie outer har; 
Beyond the gray sand-dunes, nearing home, 

Is the ghnt of a ship's tall spar. 

Above the surf, with the sca-l^ird's scream, 
Comes the sovmd of a loosened sail ; 

Through the slow dusk burns a ruddy gleam 
Of light from the starboard rail. 



So, in and out, on the ebb and flow 

Of the tide, the ships sail pjKst, 
Till, with folded wings the winds droop low, 

And the dav is done at last. 




But days that are dead, are full of pain, — 
So the Reaper sings the Song, — 

The blossom falls with the ripened grain 
That swaved in the wind so long. 



Yet, now, as then, beyond the low shore 

And the mists that overlie. 
The ships sail over the azure floor, 

And silently down the sky. 

And never the sunset mystery 
Fades out with the autumn day, 

But glimp.ses come with the .sounding .-^ea 
Of others so far awav. 



CASCOE 





t. 



-yr 



■'III , 



CASCOE 




\fei^ 



I'S;^- 



vf 



.f^ 



v-^ i-|..\\/HAT I am al)out to relate is not allo- 
-J^\ gethor history. It is in part so 

old, that one can hardly tell what 
part is history and what is legend. 
Two hundred and fifty years have 
yellowed its story; and the meni- 
oi'y of man is somewhat to be 
relied upon in i)laoes where all that is 
authentic has not been printed in the 
books. Years have mellowed the tragedies of old 
Cascoe into tales that children read by the winter 
fireside; or that grown-up folk read by the seashore 
thereabout on a sununer day, environed by so nuich 
of the old-time scenery of 

" Witidiiiii shores, 
Of narrow capes, and isles whicli lie 
Slumberinii to ocean's lullal)y," 

in which their plots were laid. 

We shall have to do without I lie orchestral i)relude 
that ushei's in the |)lay in a well-i'egulate(l ])layhouse, 
for the showman is tinkling his bell, and the curtain 
will rise in a moment. A drama is never so attrac- 

35 



36 



YE ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



tive as when well staged; and with others, I find my- 
self wondering what the scene is to be like. But 
the curtain is up at last, and I find ])ictured across 
its ample stage an 

"Old and quiet town, 
The ghostly sails that out at sea 
Flapped their white winjis of mystery; 
The beaches glimmering in the sun, 
And the low wooded capes that run 
Into the sea-mist, north and south," 

'Aud an island-studded bay that has a peculiar fasci- 
nation for the lover of the picturesque in nature. It 








J. 



is a real bay, with real water and real ships plough- 
ing through it; and a real wind piifiing out their 
sails: a rare bit of scenery, which hicks not a single 
f|ualit>' to make its beauty perfect. Coves and inlet.'^ 



YE h'OMANCE OP' CA.SCO BAY 37 

niinglo tluMr outlines of tree and reef, im^xtricably; 
and rooky bliifts, bold and threatening, near at hand, 
shorten into low relief as they reeede into a far-away 
perspective, their gray tones blending with their in- 
verted r(>fleetions in the placid waters at their feet, 
giving to them the soft, dreamy effects so common 
to sea landscapes. The irregular, zig-zag-like mark- 
ings of the island and mainland shores, jutting be- 
tween and by each other, abound in fantastic sha))es 
and broken lines, which add to the charm of the 
constantly varying landscape. 

Two centuries and a half ago, a day's sail from old 
Pentagoet southward, would have brought the voy- 
ager to the easterly boundary of this sheet of water, 
the northeast wall of this bay; which, 

"Stretching its shrunk arm out to all the winds 
And relentless smiting of the waves," 

makes a slim, ragged peninsula trending to the south- 
ward, better known in Colonial times as Pejepscot. 
Still southward, some eight leagues away, is its 
southern land-wall, where perhaps we have pitched 
our tents; and lying between, dotting the blue sea, 
is an island for every day in the year. In summer 
the cattle may be seen upon some of the larger of 
them cropping their scanty herbage; but in winter 
they are for the most part deserted. Parts of these 
island shores are ragged and broken into sharp 
needle-like shapes, that at low water resemble huge 
teeth; their extremities are slim outreaching arms of 



38 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



^^ 



rock, black with soawocd, stretching far into the 
waters that chafe and fret themselves into fleecy 

whiteness about 
these rude bar- 
riers of Nature. 
Steep cliffs end 
in al)rupt preci- 
|)ic(>s that tower 
:tl)Ove the tallest 
masts; and up 
their sides shoot 
the straight 
spruces, tall, 
arrowy, their 
t () i)s crowned 
with sparse foli- 
age. Here are 
the quarries of 
the 1)1' () a d- 
winged, white- 
headed eagles, 
whose rights of 
piscary are older 
most ancient 
; / of clKirters. One may 
. , rt/i- / see. anv dav of the vear. 
*Y the eao-les hovermsj; al)out the 





"^^'HlM' than the 



l);iv ill search of i)hiiider. watcinng 
the fish-hawks and ospreysal their 
sport among the islands and roadsteads, only to rob 
them when tlu'y have made an esjx'cially good catch. 



YE HOMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 39 

When fish are scarce and the eagle's fishermen fail 
him, a plump sea-gull will whet his appetite as w^ell. 

Clumps of willows follow the yellow sands as they 
curve backward from the cliffs, the bright green of 
their foliage standing out in sharp contrast to the 
darker tones of the dwarf pines and spruces; their 
long, drooping branches are wet with the spray of 
every incoming tide. White sails glide into the 
shadows of the headlands, or fade away below the 
horizon, lending the romance of the ships to the in- 
tensity of color which pervades the outlook. The 
atmosphere is clear, and Nature's lines are sharply 
drawn. The high lights are strong and the shadows 
deep, with well-defined gradations. They are like 
musical notes strung upon a staff, so perfect is the 
harmony of color that greets the eye. 

Only the centuries have left their footsteps about 
the worn crags and ledges, along the seaward sides 
of which the scanty tufts of spruce, gray and stunted, 
are twisted into ungainly shapes by the storms of 
the Atlantic; while over their gray reaches of broken 
shingle is strewn the debris of wreck, and driftwood, 
and floating kelp. These bold shores have wit- 
nessed many a tumult of storm-driven wave racing 
inward with the flying rain and sleet; but the same 
granite buttresses are here as of the post-glacial pe- 
riod, in all their silent pride and massive strength, 
only a bit more shattered and worn, their polished 
walls telling of many a Titan shock. 

A glance at the southeastern coast of Maine shows 
this sheet of dark water to be, if not the largest in- 



40 Yf^ ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

dentation of the series of bays and salt-water inlets 
which ,2:1 ve to the whole coast its irregular contour 
and marked characteristics of rugged strength and 
attractiveness, possessetl of a more delicate charm 
and fascination than either the Penobscot or the 
Passamaquoddy, with its islands, their outlying ledges 
and low. rocky reefs anchored so thickly about, long, 
narrow and thickly wooded, every one of them trend- 
ing to the southwest. This very plainly indicates 
the course of the immense glacier, that, ages ago, 
left its footprints, not only among these sea-girt 
rocks, but along a line hence that would take one 
over the highest of New Hampshire's AVhite Hills, 
where other footprints of the same mighty force are 
as plainly to be seen. 

At the Pejepscot, or easterly end of this bay, these 
islands, together with Harpswell Xeek, resemble a 
huge hand outspread in the midst of the sea: and 
as one sails down through them to the southward, 
the snowy summits of the far-off Xew Hampshire 
mountains are plainly discernible, forming the extreme 
western horizon. Al)0ut Harpswell Xeck. so the 
legend runs, was the old-time cruising-ground of the 
"Dead Ship." The ill-boding prophecy of its appear- 
ing, but a few years ago, was wont to terrify the credu- 
lous crones and fisher-wives of Orr's Island, who 
watched for its coming with thr keenest anxiety and 

dread. 

••old men still walk the Isle of ( )rr 
Who tell her date and name: 
Old shi|>\vri<rhts sit in Freeport yards, 
\\\in hewed her oaken frame." 



}'^- y/0.1/.LV(7-: OF CASCO BAY 



n 



And now, when the l)oats are late, the olden tale 
comes to niiiid; ;iiid the sray phantom of a ship 
beating slowly landward, with silent and deserted 
decks, leaves its weird pictiu'e on the imagination. 
Bright skies and cool seas (lisi)el such vagaries; hut 
with the dai'k lowei'ing storm swejjt along the wooded 
headlands, and over the l)arren sands before the fu- 
rious winds, the vision of l)oats among the breakers 
and of desperate men struggling with the merciless 
waters is too often ()n(> of stern reality. 

Along the blutls and sandy dunes of the shore that 
unwinds like a tangled thread among th(> (ascoe 
islands, are isolated fish- 
ing hamlets, — bi'own, 
weather-beaten houses 1' 1^-" ,'2^%-''^'A 

among the rocks, -^szl^^-.x^p^'^fllmTf 
often perched high ^T?^W^SJ^J.;^^ 
uj) against a ■P'}U'''^-^'^¥:^ 

background -•--=-' — ^'^r-^^^ ^ - <.j.t 

of scanty birch 
growth. A\'ith the 
fishing-boats drawn up on 

the sands below, and the ciuaintly-dressed figures 
of their dwellers, they are exceedingly ])icturesque 
and afford fine studies for the iiaintcn-. A ship 
with full-blown sails against the sky, a sea that 
looks "wet," — with such inimitable art are the 
colors laid on, — is a b(>autiful thing; but there is 
nothing human about it. An old interior with all 
the paraphernalia of everyday living, with a touch 
of humanity about it, a child at play among the 







42 )''■- h'OMAXCl-: OF (A SCO BAY 

kn()tt('(l seines, ;i iiet-iiieiidei', ;i l);ir of sunshine, 
is a jxx'ni, with all the rhythin and spc^ech and 
synii)atheti(' (juality of poetic e.\))ressi()n. 

'When the tide is out, the yellow niarsh-<2;i-asses 
bend under \\\v ])r(>eze. I'docks of sea-l)irds scurry 
over the odorous flats. Hei'e and thei'e, dun-coloi-ed 
stacks of niai'sh hay with sharpened domes, break the 
monotony of thes(> salt levels. A\'ide-mouthed rivers 
stretcli seaward; the broad mouth of the Presumscot 
makes an arm of the bay; farther south is Casco 
l{iv(^r fi'inji'ed with black wharves, onc(^ the hermit 
settlement of Injiersolk It is no wonder these beau- 
tiful waters, with their minuM-ous coves, and inlets, 
and snug j)laces for the sheltei'in<2; of vessels, atti'acted 
tlie attention of the storm-beaten voyager of the 
early days. No doubt then, as now, the bay was 
possessed of the same delicate tones of light and shade, 
its grays, browns, yellows and })urples, its emerald or 
slaty waters, its \voo(l-(Mnbossed landscape's of ev(>r- 
varying attraction. In these days, fi'e(|uently on 
sunmiei' afteiMioons, dense low-hanging mists gather 
about the I'oadsteads, choking them entirely; throw- 
ing across the gateways of the oflings, bars of (IuIKmI 
silver; or slowly creej) between the islands, and with 
stealthy, hesitating movement roll away inland, 
leaving the worn crags and gray ledges moi'e shai'ply 
delined than e\-er in the strong, clear sunlight . The 
(lancing waters, the soft blue sky pictui-ed with Hying 
clouds that one sees only by the sea, and th(> snowy 
sails of the ships beating in. or out th(> nari'ow 
channels, are but parts of a ))icture to be seen from 



yt: ROMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 43 

Iho hoiglits of the old town that lias jirowii u]) witliin 
the shelter of this soulherniiiost headland. 

From the Merriniac to the Kennebec extended the 
Laeonia (Iraiit. It was a f:;oodly country. Hither 
came many an adventurous man from tlie Massachu- 
setts settlements, the tide .setting noticeably to the 
eastward before the Plymouth Colony had obtained 
its foothold. Ivichnujnd's Island, .Monhegan and 
Pemaquid were then j^rominent fishing stations, and 
liad their infiuence in oj)ening this territory to men 
of the tyjx' of Cleorge Cleeve, who, if ancient report 
!)(' true, was a man of l)rave })arts, shrewdness, grit, 
and untiring energy, and a considerable politician; 
for, outwardly a good sul)ject of the king, he found no 
difficulty in espousing the cau.se of Cromwell. His 
service in Cromwell's army, — for he went from 
Ca.scoe to take up arms for the Commonwealth. — 
])roved a profitable venture Xo himself, for it strength- 
ened liis title from Gorges by liis i)urcliase of the 
old charter rights from Rigljy, one of Cromwell's 
officers. 

When Cleeve returned to Cascoe, there came with 
him a young felknv who became an iinnate of his 
hou.sehold. There was another who })ecanie inter- 
ested in this newcomer, we may Ix'lieve more for 
companionship's sake than through any warmer in- 
terest, — for it is (juite likely j)retty Betsey Cleeve 
was as denmre as a Puritan maid of those times 
should b(\ Alas for denuu'eness and maidenly sim- 
])licity! It was not long before Jietsey's heart went 
into the clearings with her lover, while his remained 



44 



I'A' h'OM.WCK OF CASCO BAY 



with the rcd-clu'ckcd <i-ii-l. s|)iiiniii<2; wool niul flax, or 
W(':i\int2; the fainiiy hoincsiJiin in the cuinljrous 
wootlcii-looni. It is not unlikely this colonial court- 
shi}) went as smoothly, and pleasantly, in the tireli<2;ht 
of this log-shelter(Ml hearth of two centiu'les and a 
half a<!;o, smothered in (l(M'ps of di'iftin_<;- snows, as it 
does to-day within the pai'lors of the sttitely bi'own- 
stone fi'onts tiiat overlook the site of this first love- 
making in those parts. Betsey's lover had one ad- 




^^-TcT 



LONGFELLOW S BIRTHPLACE 



vantage young men do not have nowadays: tlu^re 
was no ''other h'llow" constantly faiuiing thi^ flame 
of hi3 uneasiness; and then> is no intimation that the 
course of his affection did not run smoothly, — for it 
is a recorded fact that Elizabeth Cleeve became Mrs. 
Michael Mitton in due time, th(> first English mar- 
riage in tins section: a very interesting event, in 
which the whoU^ neighborhood, wliich th(>n consisted 
of two families, no doubt actively partici])ated. 



l'£ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 45 

Mitton was more fortunate in his romancing than 
\\\o brave Standish. 

In the case of John Winter a<i;ainst (Jeorge Cleeve, 
one of the earhest and most im])ortant \o^-a\ eon- 
tests heard in the Courts of Provincial Ahiine, the 
deposition of Wilham Gihbins, Mariner, (hited Sep- 
tember 8th, 1640, "saith that the River which runs 
vj) l)y Mr. Arthur Mackworthes house was called 
by the name of Casco River for seventeene yeai'es 
gone or there aboute." 

From this it would se(Mn that (!ibl)ins was hei'e 
about 1623. As Mr. Baxter says, it was "(luitc 
likely that Gibbitis was one of Levett's nuMi, and 
perhaps one of the ten, whom Levett left in charge 
of the 'strong house' which he Iniilt — |)erhaps at 
Machegonie — Ix'fore his return home.'' 

This "Casco River" was the Presumpscot. H(>re 
about 1635, Mackworth Ijuilt a house. He was 
undoubtedly a companion of "factor Vines." who 
came over in 1630, to take up his grant at Saco. 
On the northeastern himk of the Presumpscot, was 
a point of land which the Indians called Menikoe; 
and it was here that the Mackworth manse was built, 
and which he dignifi(Ml by the name of "Newton." 
It was a s])acious house for the times according to 
tradition, and beautiful for location, — a breezy and 
sightly spot, coimnanding a wid(^ view of this bay ot 
manv islands. Its Indian nam(> was Menikoe, \\\\\v\\ 
in the language of the at)origine, meant the pUiee 
of jnnes: and, although, in these days, one s(>es 
naught but fertile helds, and scattered growths of 



40 Y^' ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

deciduous tnn's, and runs of alders and dwarf hii-chos; 
yet, in the time of Maekworth, here was, doubt- 
less, a pine-clad rib of land that broke the low-rol- 
ling mists of the bay apart, to send them u}) the 
Presumpscot on the fiood of the tide, or eastwai'd, 
Pejepscot way. Jt was an enchanting, and an ideal 
country; and here Mackwoilh spent his days in 
gentlemanly leisure; meanwhile bringing u\) a mi- 
merous family, and doing a deal of entertaining. Mack- 
worth was famous for his gracious hospitality, and 
^Mistress Maekworth was a most charming lieli)meet. 
It was he who made the delivery of seizin to Cleevc 
and Tuckci- in 1637, by "twig and turf," according 
to the old English custom, of what is now the charm- 
ing city of Portland, or rather that part originally 
incorporated as such. 

Mackworth's occupancy of these Presumpscot 
lands is still kejit in mind by the rehabilitation of 
MeniJxoe into tlie corruption of ^Maekworth, — 
namely, commonplace .Mackcy, by which cognomen, 
the point and an island adjacent, are now known. 
And here is ]\Iartin's Point, where is now estaiv 
lished the (lovernment Marine Hospital, and which 
recalls Widow MaHin; for here Avas the Martin farm, 
where young P>eniamin MaHin was killed by the 
Jndiaiis in one of tlieir skulking excursions ht're- 
about. 

Cleeve may well be called the pioneer of this 
part of th(> Province, coming here with Tucker, as 
he did, in HY.VA, from S])urwinke two years earlier 
than Mackwoi'lh. Tucker was in a wav a subordi- 



Y^ h'OMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 47 

nato or .servant of Clccve, who later brought a 
suit for an accounting for services in tlie Saco Court. 
Not much is heard of him after a year or so of the 
sojourning here. Cleeve seems to liave heen the 
man of affairs. Before the coming of Cleeve and 
Tucker, however, another had jirecedcd them; for 
there was a goodly house on oiu> of the islands adja- 
cent to the nioutli of lM)i'e liiver, the tide stream 
which Gibbins confounded with the Presumpscot. 
This house was built by Christopher Levett, who 
came over here in 1G23 in a vessel of his own, and 
who sailed up the Presumpscot. i)erhaps to the Falls. 
He made a considerable ex})loration of the coast 
hence, to the southward as far as the mouth of the 
Piscataqua, where he was tlie guest of one Thom])son, 
perhaps the earliest settler about the immediate mouth 
of that ]Dicturesquely beautiful stream. He made 
written memoranda of liis impressions of the country 
and his experiences. He had a commission, in which 
Capt. Robert Gorges, Capt. Francis AA'est, and tlie 
Governor of New Plymouth were associate 1 with him, 
"for th(> ordering and governing of New England." 
He came as one clotluMl with authority; l)ut there 
was but little opportunity for the excM'cise of such, 
with only the defunct enteri)rise of Popham at 
Pemaquid, and the straggling hamlet on Cape Cod; 
with the bare possibility' that Xeale, as the agent for 
Gorges and Mason, under their patent of August, 1622, 
might have been laying the stone foundations of 
Mason's house around (^uamphegan I'alls on the 
Piscataqua. Undoubtedly Levett in-eceded Xeale bv 



48 yt^' h'OMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

8011U' tinio, as Lovctt was the <2;ii(\st of Thompson at 
OiUorno's Pouit; and 'Jlioiiipsoii left liis cabin ininie- 
diatoly upon Nealo's coming, of which the latter took 
possession for himself. 

One of his first acts iii)()n his coming to Casco, 
was to ingratiate himself into the good graces of the 
(^iieen of (^nack, — in other words, he procured a 
grant, upon his arrival, of the site of Casco Xeck 
and four islands in the harbor, from the wife of the 
Sagamore of this locality. The " Sagamore's wife " is 
the ''queen," undoubtedly, with whom Levett sailed 
to (^uack, along with tlie prince, the dog, and the 
kettle. Levett gave this place the name of York; 
and Charl(>s T. recognized it as York, as well, in the 
interest which he subse(iuently took in the affairs of 
Levett. It was here at Casco, and without doubt, 
on ()n(> of the four islands at the entrance to the 
liarbor, that he built his house. There was a house 
on IIous(^ Lsland for years before (leeve came here, 
and thei"e was no other house mentioned; tlierefore 
it is entirely rational to say that the improvements 
on House Island were those of Levett. Levett says 
he fortifie(l his house. If he was so cautious as that, 
he could not, in the exercise of good judgment have 
selected a better, or safer, location, 'i'his foi'saken 
cabin was used l\y fishermen for years aft(>r its alian- 
donment b}' Levett's ten men who were left beliind. 
It \\as in a degree isolated, and of hmiteij area, and 
swejjt the harbor in all directions. 

It must ha\'e been of some considei'able dimen- 
sions, to accommodate its "arrison of ten, who \\('re 



y^ R()}ia:^'-e of cA.sio hay 49 

to soo to its euro and ]ii-otoction while ho should sail 
to ]'ji<;laiid tor his family, and make his return, 
II(> makes a record that he '^fortified it in a reason- 
able eood fashion." He seems to have had not much 
knowledge of the natives, even by hearsay; for, by 
his relation it is evident h(> ex))ected some inter- 
fei'enc(\ Levett's intent was evident, lie found 
tlie country attractive; and he liad decided to make 
it the scene of his future acKcnturings. That he 
did not retui'U, was l)y reason of the unsettle(l state 
of international affairs between I'lno'land and Si)ain. 
After some delay of a year or more, and owin*;- to 
his inability to enlist the royal aid, he ]:)ecame dis- 
couraged. In 1627, he got the royal ear; and Charles 
1. ordered the churches of Yoi'k to take a contri- 
bution to assist him in the building of a new city in 
the land wh.ich Levett had spyed out. This city 
was to be called York. After that, the story of 
L(>vett is involved in oloscurity, and nothing more 
is heard of him. His men at ( asco scattered, the 
residence at House Island, set up with so many 
fond hopes, and in which he hoped to install liis 
family, was given over to absence, and decay. But 
his labor was not lost; for that fair city of York 
which diaries saw building over-seas, became the 
fame(l (iorgeana of Accomintas; and it was about 
the waters of York River instead of Casco Bay, that 
these projected activities wer(> to l)e in some degree 
realizetl. 

At this time, and for twoscore years after the 
coming of Cleeve, here was the wiMerness of the 



50 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO DAY 

al)()ri<^iii(\ At l)ost, Caseo Neck was a thin and 
scattorocl lianilct, even as late as the beghminji; of 
tho Indian forays of 1675; but in tho chiys when 
\\'int(M- and Cleeve wcro ))loa(Ung and repleading 
before Thomas Gorges, a hall-dozen log-houses, squat- 
ted, here and there, between Fore River and Indian 
Cove, made u}) the tale of its inhabitants. It is a 
good three miles from one ))oint to the other, and 
few of these huts were within sight eaeh of the other. 
Except, where the conflagrations, starte<l fi-oiu the 
Indian camp-fii'es, liad ON-er-run the woodlands, or 
with here and ther(>, a rough-set opening wh(>re the 
neighboi'ing ti'ibes grew their maize, the I'ciiiaindcr 
of the country was an unbroken and unexplored 
wilderness. C^asco Neck was almost an island at 
high tide, witli an area of eonsidera])le extent: and 
from the water's edge, on tlic hai'l)or front, the 
dense woods cr(>])t up o\'er its somewhat elevatcnl 
8i)in(>, to dip again to the Hats of P)ack Cove. Amid 
these forests were swamps, which alTorded ample 
lui'king j)lace for the sawige. 

liccalling .loeylyn's ([uaint I'dations of his spoil- 
ing exploits along with Michael Mitton, and how 
a re(l shi-ed of cloth was as good a l)ait as any, for 
the taking of (ish, one can imagine these old-time 
worthies, like Cammock, and his contemporaries 
among tlu^ adjacent settlements, witli tlunr musk(>ts 
and fishing-lines, st;tiling out aftei' Hsh, fowl, and 
larger game: jaunting u]) and down these shores, oi' 
thnnigh the woods of (";i]ie l^liznbetli, or the Neck. 
And how alnuidant a sui)ply th.at nuist have been. 



y/- ROMAME OF CASrO BAY 01 

when the lierring were piled in win(h"o\v.s along the 
Scarborough sands, so that one walked through 
them 'Mialf-way to his knees!" 

The wild pigeons flew in clouds to darken tlie 
sun ; and when the sun was down, they went to roost 
among the forest tre(>s, loading their branches so 
they broke under their w<'ight, and the settlers 
gathered them by torchlight, in l)ags. They were 
the pests of the early rye-fields; and, after a time, 
were netted like fish. The streams, un])olluted by 
the refuse from the sawmills, or factory chemicals, 
were thronged with salmon; and the red s})ot trout 
were so plenty that they could be caught with the 
hand, or kicke(l ashore with the foot. A IxNir-steak, 
or a haunch of venison, could Ije had by a shot 
almost from one of these cal)in thresholds. The 
coves and inlets along the island or mainland shores, 
were the breeding-i)laces of the succulent lol)ster, 
and were to be had for the picking up at every shal- 
low tide. Mackerel and cod followed the shallows 
in schools; and on Hack Cove that ran from Sandy 
Point westward, toward the Capisic River, and up 
into Avhat was later, Brackett's woods, was the al- 
most continuous sound of duck's wings along the 
water; for here were excellent feeding-grounds for 
sea-fowl; and among the grasses of the wide marshes 
they br(Ml in countl(>ss mnnbers. Here was a hun- 
ter's paradise; and had it not betni for this super- 
abundance of natural food-su])ply, the settler's larder 
would have many a time rwu short. T have heard 
old men relate, how, in their boyhood, a bushel- 



52 yf^ ROMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

basket of laro;o trout wove taken from tho brook in 
a few (lips of a coarse hand-net; and which were 
pickknl, or corned, in barrels, mackerel-fashion, and 
stored for winter use. Nor was this all. Every 
meadow had its otter-slide; and every brook, or con- 
siderable stream, its beaver-dam; and the fur-trade 
was most profitable. \Mth the predatory wolf, the 
prowling catamount, and the treacherous, cat-like 
lynx, came an added element of personal danger 
that l(Mit an adventurous cast to this frontier life. 

Richmond's Island, through all these days, was 
an important trading station where numerous men 
were employed, and a (juotation from A\'inter's ac- 
counts is suggestiv(\ — 

£ s. d. 
" For 95 ducks at 4d. p duck from Benjamin 

atwellis 1 11 S 

" foull from Myhell Myttinsjo of Casko, sjeese 

at Is. j)ecc, 4d. a \wcc for ducks, & 2d. 

a pece for taill, which unjountcd to S 13 

"32 ducks at 4d. p duck is los. Sd., it 14 

poose at Is. p goose is 14s., from .lohu 

Bouden of Blacke pointe, all is 1 4 S " 

Epicurean times, when such gastronomic delecta- 
tions wer(> ]i()ssible; and at, ye gods, what prices, 
when a i)air of wild fowl in these days is cheap at 
a dollar and a half! 

In these days on(^ may spend his time between 
sun and sun, scoiu'ing the fiats of Fore River, from 
its wide-flaring mouth, to where the silver thread of 
the (';i])isic comes trickling down to meet the tide; 



yt^ h'OMAXCJ- OF CASCO BAY 



53 



or l)('at up tlio luoadows beyond iMartin's Point, and 
one may hartlly see a blue-wingod teal, a stray rail, 
or a snipe on I'agged wing, 

Mitton became a favorite with liis wife's father, 
for the latter gave Imn considerable grants of land, 
notably of Peak's Island, which in the early days went 
by the name of Mountjoy's, and known still earli(>r 
as Pond Island, I believe. Cleeve gave him a 




SIMONTON COVE 



large tract of land on the Cape Elizabeth side of 
Fore River, where Mitton lived for some time. This 
is now identified as the Widgery Farm. It was on 
a point reaching into this stream, designated by 
Willis, as Clark's; but ]\Ir. Baxter says this is an 
error. 

There was no need in those days of an Annanias 
Club, with only the famous trio of Mitton, Jocylyn, 
and Cannnock for story-tellers. These m(>n were 
intimates; and their visits back and forth were of 



54 y- h'OMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

great fr('([iu'iicy. The ilislaiit'c hctwooii Casco and 
Black Point was not tar, with a fair wind; and with 
plenty of aqua-vitae, a crackling fore-stick, antl such 
jolly fcllow^ship, w^hat roars of mirth, stories of Mer- 
man and Triton, adventurous and startling exploits, 
and marvels of escape and dangers, real or imag- 
ined, set the rafters of these rude shelters a-ciuiver! 
Jocylyn hints at some of these tales in his journal, 
but they are only tlu^ bare threads from w^hich the 
original w^ebs were woven. 

Men build their camps in the deeps of the wil- 
derness in these days; but their experiences are hardly 
up to an expurgated edition of the racy oi-iginals 
with which Mitton and his ac(iuaintance were once 
so familiar. 

A\'ith now and then a new settler, the hamlet gnnv 
slowly. The Indians came and went; l)ringing in 
their furs, bartering them for "kill-devil," and such 
other things as answered their n(>eds, or their fancy; 
and this ])lace carnc^ to be a considerable tiading- 
post, which aroused great jealousy in the mind of 
John \\'inter, the agent of Trelawney at liichmontrs 
Islaiul. 

The first dwellings at Casco were around Mach- 
igoim(> Point, east of Clay Cov(\ Tf tli(> cui'ious 
would be better satisfied with the exact locality, 
he will find this old stamping-ground al)out the new 
t(>rminal station of the Grand Trunk Railway. East- 
ward was the home of Mackworth. Richard Mar- 
tin w\as at Martin's Point; and from thence keep- 
ing to the southward, and following the trend of the 



)'^' ROMAXCH OF ('A SCO BAY 55 

.shoro around the base of the Western Promenade, 
and up Fore River and across to Stroudwater, was 
the course of the early extension of the settlement 
of Casco Neck. Across Fore liiver, in the vicinity 
of Fort Preble, was Purpooduc; and it was her(> the 
Phippens, ^^'llites, Stannafords, Penleys, and Wal- 
lises lived. At Spurwinke, lived Rol)ert Jordan, who 
ministered spiritually to the continfrent at \\'inter's 
trading station; and who married the only daughter 
of ^^'inter; and who, therel)y, through his wife, en- 
joyed the emoluments of his fathei--in-law's absorp- 
tion of the Trelawney Grants, the first land-steal of 
which we have any record in this new coimtry; unless 
the aborigine may have liad the original I'ight by 
preemi)ti()n. According to Willis, five or six fam- 
ilies occupied the territor}^ between the eastern and 
western extremities of what is now the city projx^r. 
Cleeve's was to the east. Mitton was in the west; 
and Tucker's house was between the two. Falmouth 
town was of large area. All of these isolated locali- 
ties, with Spurwinke as the western limit, were in- 
cluded in its jurisdiction. This was the status of 
the place about 1675, the total number of its families 
being about forty. 

At this time, which was l()7o, the thirteen settle- 
ments in the Dominion of Maine contained a popu- 
lation of perhaps six thousand, widely dispersed, and, 
for that reason, unable to successfully repel savage 
attack. After long years of peaceful intercourse a 
tragedy was to be enacted, whose run depended upon 
.French muskets, French intrigue, and Indian savag- 



56 



yi- hUKMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 



(TV. The stars in this real trajicily were all of local 
reputation ('.\ccj)t when Baron ( astinc left his Penob- 
scot wigwam to ])lay some leading part in the mas- 
sacre that was sure to come. 

King Philip, uneasy and jealous of the P^nglish 
settler, was slowly })eri'ecting i)lans for his (extermina- 
tion. The Knglish, guilty of constant encroachment 
upon the hunting-grounds of the Indians, had aft'orded 
sudicient i)rovocation, which was augmented l)y the 
restrictions imposed upon the s(^ttlers by the General 
Court of Massachusetts. ])rohil)iting the sale of arms 




FORT GORGES 



to the Indians, or the repaii'ing of them for use by 
the Indians. 

The Indian, after thirty yc^u's of ac(|uaintanee with 
the Kngiish iinisket, had b(H'ome a stranger to the use 
of the bow and Hint-head arrow. It was imi)ossible 
to undo his education in the use of firearms. His 
living (kpended in great i)arf upon the unerring aim 
of his musket. It was too late. Messeng(Ts carried 
the news of the coming of the commissioners to dis- 
arm the nati\'es to ever\' tribe on the northeiii fron- 



yj-^ ROMAXCE OF CASCO HAY 57 

tier; and a state of siisjjicion and hostility resulted 
which prepared tlie Indians, urged on by the Freneli, 
who were jealous ol" the J*]nglish advance toward 
Acadia, for the treacherous ovcM'tures of Philip's em- 
issaries and to engage in the war, which broke out in 
th(^ niidsunmier of It)"'). 

The first act in this trageily, which, with few in- 
t<'rvals of (|uiet, lasteil forty years, was that of the 
New Meadows River, a Bi-unswick stream, a h'W 
miles to the eastward. A settler's house was robbed 
of its guns and annnunition, and his cattle killed. 
A\'hat would have happened to the settler and his 
son had they not fled on their horses is a matter of 
speculation. The settler's wife was unharmed. A 
f(>w days later, Stogunnnor, l)etter known as l-'al- 
moutli in the colonial geography, was partly de- 
stroyed, and this was followed l)y an aggressive cam- 
])aign on the settlers in these ])arts after tlu^ desul- 
tory style of Indian warfare. Hands of marauding 
savages W(M-e scattered over th(> province, l)urning, 
killing and making captives. The most hideous 
atrocities were connnitted at French instigation, and 
the settlements were demoraliz(Ml; for the largcu- part 
of this, Castine and Pere Rasle wer(> r(>s])()nsible. The 
seventh of October in tliis year was ol)served by th(> 
pjiglish colonies as a day of fasting and i)rayer, 
which might have been more i)rohtal)ly observcMJ 
at an earh(>r period in the interest of the ])revention 
of thos(^ acts of which the savages had abundant 
cause to complain, and the bitter fruits of which the 
settlers were now reaping. The first act of the trag- 



58 r-fc' h'OMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

edy cxtoiulcd over a })cri()d of three years, when the 
Peace of C'asco was consuniinated, and Massachusetts 
took !\hune vuider her colonial win*!; l)y a sort of 
propi'ielary purchase. 

Mar((uette, Joliet and La Salle, with other mis- 
sionaries, had ])enetrated the western wildernesses. 
Along the 8t. Lawrence, the Great Lakes, and the 
i\Iississip))i, to the Gulf, a chain of French posts had 
been established. The I'Jiglish I'egarded this ext(Mi- 
sion of the I'^rench boundary, as threatening riglits 
undei' their charter from James L, by which tlu>y 
claimed nil the territoiy from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific, south of a line drawn along the latitude of 
the north shore of Lake J^rie, and thence westward. 
On the other hand, the Freiicli claimed {he territory 
watered by the Great liiver, by reason of their being 
tlie earliest explorers and settlers. The I'^i-ench 
claim was certainly well-founded. Wluitever causes 
combined to engage the two nations in war, this was 
a suflicient cause in those days of jealous acijuisition 
of territory in the New \\'orld. l^est known in his- 
tory as King William's A\'ar, the wai- was marked ])y 
a w'ickedness and devastation ne\-er Ix'fore known in 
the annals of Indian warfare, and falling heaviest 
along the northwestern frontier of New England. 
Most of the remote settlements had b(H>n deslro^-ed 
or abandoned. This settlement on Gasco vivrv was 
to sliai'e the fate of Dover, and Schenectady. During 
the summei' of KiSO, the dei)i'edations of the Indians 
were e\1ei)d('(l to the whole frontier. None knew 
liow, or when the blow was to fall. Settlers were 



yi: ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 59 

hardly safe in th(> larficr towns and scttlcnicnts. 
M(Mi carried their muskets skin*:; to their backs as 
they wended th(Mr way to churcii, oi- wrought in the 
helds with })lough or scythe. The low fenc(>s of rails, 
and ragged, uprootetl stunii)s, which formed the 
l)rimitiv(* boundaries of their limited domains, and 
the thick shadows of the neighboring woodlands wen; 
constantly scrutinized for the hidden f()(\ 

Acute to an abnormal degree, a literal translator 
of the hieroglyphics of nature, inured to exj)()sure, 
fatigue and hunger, always alert, no vigilance could 
protect the settler from the craft and treachery of 
this nomad of the wilderness. \('ry early in th(> 
war, few settlers were to be found east of the Pis- 
cata([ua. It was a war f)f extermination. JMonhe- 
gan, a hshing station at the eastern limit of Casco 
Bay, offered five pounds for every Indian head. By 
proclamation, savages were outlawed. 

Topographically, Cascoe was almost an island. 
The tides from the sea swept uj) the bay and through 
the narrow gap at the north (>nd of the neck, uj) over 
the flats of Back Cove, a broad inl(>t making into the 
mainland and extending well back to the westward; 
while, on the south and west, wen^ the deej) waters of 
Casco River. This river swung round to the north- 
ward, so that at high tide the sea, east and west, al- 
most met. The rough clearings of this earlier set- 
tlement had become fertile fields, that extended 
beyond the s])in(>, or ridge, that ran midway the 
length of tlu^ peninsula and down to the edge of 
the salt creek that bounds the new city park with 



60 y-''' h'OMAXCl'^ Of CASCO BAY 

its acres of ancient oaks, better known as Deering 
\\ Oods. 

Cleeve was dead; Tucker had gone to Portsmouth. 
Fisheries, hunl)er, and agriciUture were the engage- 
ments of the peo))le. The trade at Richmond's 
Island had h(M'n (Hverted to Casco on the (>ast : and 
York and Kittery on the west. Then came King 
lMiilij)'s War; and hke a bolt from out the sky, the 
savage horde swept down u{)on this settlement : and 
with fire and axe the devastation was thorough 
and comi)lete, in which thirty-four individuals were 
slain, or carried ca])tive into the wilderness, among 
whom the inmates of the Bracket t liome were num- 
bered. Tliomas Hrack(>tt was killed, along witli 
John Munjoy and Isaac ^^'akely, all leading men at 
the N(M'k. In IGTS, a Peace Compact was enteretl 
into here, betw^een the Colonial (iov(>rnment and the 
Indians; and slowly, those who escaped the ruth- 
less tomahawk returned to their hou.seless acres. 
Two years later, l'\)rt Loyall was erect(Ml lu^ar the 
foot of India Street; and in t\\o latter part of that 
year, 1S()(), Oovernor Danforth cam(> down from Bos- 
ton, and a Court was held within its walls; and an 
orderly arrangement was effected. l)y which the set- 
tlers wer(> to receive better protection. The n'cord 
savs, — ''The fort was erected and the houselots 
ordered on a considerable part of Cleeve's corn- 
fi(>ld."' Or in other words, the settlement was com- 
l)actetl into seml)lance of solidai'ity. 

A stone house was built on .Munjoy Hill, I'.astern 
Promenade, by ('a|)taiu bawi-ciice. .Vftcr this, the 



I'A- h'DMA .\( ■/•; OF ( '. \ s( ■() li. 1 r 61 

socoiul <2;r()wth of the old (own was raj)i(l. Edward 
Tyii<i; was the first coniniandor of Fort Loyall, who 
was afterward a|)point(Ml (iovcriior of Annapolis; hut 
sailing thither, he was (•aj)tur('d by the I*'r(Mi{'h, and 
died in France, a pi'isoner of wai'. In 1()9() the ])()])U- 
lation was seven liuiuh'tMl; and Willis says, — "Of 
this number, about twenty-fi\'e families lived on the 
Neck, forty at Pui'])ooduck, Spurwink, and Stroud- 
water; the remainder at l^ack Vo\(\ Capisic, and 
rresumi)scot." 

The establishment of tlie stronghold at C'asco, was 
a thorn in the French flesh. The French had long 
maintained a foothold at Xorridgew^ack, and on the 
Penobscot, where Castine held sway; and it was the 
ultimate purpose of the I'^rench to absorb th(» entire 
Province of Maine. In ordei- to accomplish this, 
the Indians must be incited to other and further 
atrocities against these frontier settlements. The 
authorities in Canada W(>re i)rompt in their reports 
to the Home (Tovernment, and were fertile in their 
suggestions and plans; and the res]x)nse of the 
Flome (lovernment was I'eady and generous. The 
I^rench were most fortunate in the ])ossession of 
these nomad allies; and under their schooling they 
were foi'midable, and much to be dr(>aded antago- 
nists. Rasle at Norridg(nvack, was untiring in his 
devotion to the church, and let slij) no op[)ortunity 
to impress v\\)o\\ the untutored mind of the savag(% 
that his sole errand in lif(» was the comi)lete and utter 
extirpation of the " Yengees" " from the face of New 
England, and more especially the coast of Maine.'* 



62 y^' ROMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

Ho was especially (lili<i;ent in iiu-ulcatiiiti; dail}' the 
lessons of devotion to the Cause of the Church, which 
was primarily the extension of the Jesuit influence; 
and secondarily, the wideninji; of its territory. All 
this was le<;'itiinate enou<i,ii, j)erhai)s, l)ut the l)ar- 
barities practised by his uncouth and brutal tools, 
were as well chargeable to the rmle ideas of civili- 
zation, and its rights, common to the times. Th(> 
underlying principle was aggrandizement. There was 
an innuense profit in the trade of the New World, 
and |)erhaps the ac(|uisitions of Spain around the 
(!ulf of Mexico, and the immense value of its mines 
of silver ac(|uii'ed under the Conciuests of Pizarro, 
and those wiio came after him, were at the bottom 
of the I'rench cupidity. In this warfare, the French 
were hardly better than brigands. 

And, again, th(> activity of the French, and the 
inactivity of the authorities of Massachusetts Bay, 
w(M"(> notable. There was a strain of meanness run- 
ning through the administration at Boston, that 
could not but jjrovoke the criticism of those to whom 
it should have lent its active interest. It was an 
administration for lve\'(Mme only. It Icx'ied taxes 
promi)tly ujjon its Pi-o\-incial j)ossessions; and was 
as ])i'()mi)t, and severe, in its coll(>ction of them; but 
when it cam(^ to the (le))leting of its treasury for the 
maintenance of a sufhcient force to ])roteet its fron- 
tier interests, its machinery moved with exceeding 
slowness, and generally not at all. Casco was a 
most promising colony; and, according to its loca- 
tion so far eastward, a rapidly gi'owing on(\ Its 



yi: ROMAXCI'J OF CASCO ILW (i3 

trade was iiiiporlaiil . lis jicoplc wcfc orderly, iu- 
dustrious, and hi<ihly iiitellif2;ent. ll was ;i sottle- 
iiient to be nursed and protected; yet it was, in (ho 
main, left to its own devices in times of stress and 
extreme danger. 

After Fort Loyall was built, its support IxH'anie 
irksome to Massachusetts. The (Jenerai Coui't did 
not can^ to pay out more than it received; and a 
glance at its now ancient records will show its dis- 
})osition in the numerous orders, passcnl at -one time 
and another, wdiich w^ere, however, of little real or 
solid benefit to the object of so much futile legis- 
hition. Here is one order, which would indicate the 
indifferent estimation of the General Court toward 
the Casco settlement: 

"The survey or gennerall is ordered to d(>liver 
vnto Capt. Edward Ting for the use of Fort Loyall 
one barrell of powder of the meanest of the countries 
store and waist, and the value to be repajed by the 
Treasurer as soon as the cjuit-rents come in." 

Casco was not alone in this neglectful experience. 
It was the same with all the settlements south, to 
Portsmouth. It was apparently a well-defined and 
understood policy, this ignoring of the riglits of the 
settlements in the Province of Maine. And it was 
well adhered to. 

It was decided In^ the Fn^nch Govermnent that 
tlie fort at Casco must be annihilated; and tlu^ later 
attack upon this place was the result of mature 
d(>liberations by the Court of Versailles. It was 
approved by Louis XIV.; and it was a part of the 



64 



y-fe' ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



gen(>ral a.ssault to be made on all the English settle- 
ments as far as New York. The English \v(>re to 
be driven out; and the Fleur dc lis of France and the 
Bee-spangled banner of Louis, u))held and borne 
along ui)on the yells of the Indian devils, and guer- 
doned by the trailing smokes of the English cabins, 
was to extend New France to the River of Hendrik 
Hudson. Able militarists were despatched to head 
the wild forces of the Abenake woods; and after 




OLD FORT HALIFAX 



(hie prei)aration and e(|uipnient, the onslaught was 
to be made. This hapiteiied in !()*)(). As early as 
16S8 outbreaks occiu'red here and there; nor was 
the I'Jiglish Oovernnient uiiawan' of the {''rencli pur- 
pose. The \\':\v of King Williaiii kept its pace. 
It was a symj)athetic chord in th(> contest then going 
on between France and I'jigland, across the water, 
James IF had been deposed. William and Mary 
had assuiiie(l the luiglish throne. The revolution 



yf- ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 65 

which had accoinpHshod this, dww Louis into the 
espousing of the cause of the Stuiu'ts, and he thus be- 
came the aggressive defender of the dethroned James, 
It was the fight that always came, wlicn .Icsuit 
and Protestant found their interests at odds. While 
the fight was on across the seas, little regard was had 
for the interests of the colonists. 

While this was going on, the saw-mills in the 
Provinces were taxed for the support of this fort 
at Casco; and the amount of the tax was around 
$500. per annum. The uprising in Boston against 
the unpopular and tyrannical Sir Jildmund Andros, 
w^ho was Governor of New England at this time, 
resulted in his arrest there on the ISth of Aj^ril, 
1689, and afterward, his deportment to England 
for trial. Andros was rei)resented at Fort Loyall 
by Captain Lockhart. Like his master, he was of 
the Jesuit faith, and his soldiers rebelled and de- 
serted the fort, refusing to serve under him. Al^out 
the Province similar episodes occurred in the several 
forts, leaving them defenceless, so hateful was the 
name of a Papist to the the ear of the settler. Pa])ist 
and Indian were transposal)l(> terms. For fifty years, 
the venturous and hardy Fathers of the Church of 
Rome had traversed the wilderness, from the mouth 
of the St. Lawrence to the land of the Hurons; and 
southward, their outposts had been established on 
the Kennebec. The titled Castine had become the 
step-son of Madockawando, and had chosen his home 
among the wigwams of the Tarratines along the banks 
of the Penobscot. It was a piece of astute diplo- 



G6 y- ROMAXCK OF CASCO HAY 

inacv: for throujiii Castinc, the French exercised un- 
bounded s\va\- over the savage tril^es of New France. 
If the adinhiislration at Boston ever had any care 
for the interests of the settler in Maine, it was badly 
exhibited in the Andros expedition to the Penob- 
scot in the spring of IGS8, where he plundered Cas- 
tine's residence, visiting his brutality likewise on the 
Indians whom he fountl there. This unwarranted 
and ill-advised proceeding, on the i)art of Andros, 
crystallized the i)urpose of Castine, who was some- 
thing of a ])acific by nature, into goading his savage 
allies to burn and kill upon all occasions, and ukkU; 
him a willing and active coadjutor of l"'rontenac, 
then Governor of Canada. 

Frontenac had lieen to Franc{\ This same year 
so fi'aught with reljellion to Andros, he had returned. 
He brought explicit instructions to begin o|)erations 
against New England, and New York. The plan 
of the French cani])aign had been thoroughly dis- 
cussed; and the French and Indians in Canada were 
roused to a pitch of enthusiasm, especially the latter, 
to whom Frontenac was, indeed, a fath(^r. The 
colonies were anxious, even fearful, and con'espond- 
ingly depressed. 

The first surjjrise was made uj)on a small settle- 
ment at Yarmouth, and not so far away l)ut a fieet 
runner could reach Casco in little over an iiour's 
time. There was a garrison-house here in j)rocess 
of construction, upon which the settlers were at 
woik ; but the ciicniN' came too soon. Near by. two 
men had been killed while out hunting up their oxen; 



yi'^ ROMANCE OF CASCO HAY 



67 



ami imnicdiatoly after, the assault was niado on the 
workmen. The light hccaiiie a gom^ral one; the 
I*:nghsh retiring to the river, where they were pro- 
tected by a high eliff. Here they made a decided 
stand. Across the river wen^ other settlers who took 
the alarm. Among these was Cai)t. Walt(U- (Jlen- 
dall. Suddenly the tiring under the river haidc 
ceased. GlcMidall, with a bravery common to th(> 




AN OLD GARRISON HOUSE 

settler of the time, secured a bag of powder and ball, 
and made for his boat, but was too late. Just as he 
was leaping into his boat, he was struck mortally; 
and throwing the bag with a wonderful stnMigth, he 
shouted, — "I have lost my life in your service!"" 
but before he died he heard the renewed shots from 
the river-side; and with the rattling of the nnis- 
ketry for his requiem, he fell into his boat, dead. 



68 V^ HOMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

Tho ^'ai'iiioutli scttlcfs inado a stvinly dcffiiCf^ and 
beut off their assailants, wlio retired to J^ane's Island, 
down the bay, to spend the niglit in an ujjroarious 
carousal. Tliese settlers fled to the islands, and 
finally esca])ed to lioston. This was in niid-Au<i;ust 

of lass. 

Tniiiiediately after this, (leorjie Andros of Boston 
raised a force of se^■('ll hinuh'ed men, with which he 
went as far as PenKuiuid. N()thin<2; was aceom- 
plished; yet there was something in the raising and 
disposition of a force of such numbers, that augured 
a breaking away from the indifference that had so 
long been the Massachusetts policy. The Clovern- 
nient that sncce(>(led him (lr()i)pe(l, at once, back into 
the same lethargic dis])osition, from which Andros 
seemed to have broken away; and whate\'er tlieir 
conviction may hn\"e been as to the importance of 
maintaining a sti'ong post at Casco, it merged into 
acute atrophy. With the successful holding out of 
Fort Loyall, the eastern frontier would have op(>r- 
ated as a menac(> to inwiding forces: and would, in 
some degree, hav(^ served as a check to the ravages 
that swept over Cape \eddock, and uj) over the 
back-lots of Kittery. As it was, its defence was 
left to the bi'awn and coui'age of the (^asco settlers, 
after a fashion. After repeated demand. Massachu- 
setts (lid send Captain Cliurch and a small troop of 
soldiers and friendly Indians, and a ])itche(l battle 
was had, October, 1()S0, in what is now Deering 
Park. After a stiff rencounter, Church won out; 
and the Indians retireil to their wilds bevond the 



yi: ROMAM'K OF (ASCO JiAY 



G!J 



Penobscot. Rejoicing in their success, the settlers 
knew, that with the returnin<2; springtime, th(^ l)utch- 
ery would he nMK'wed; and Church, assuring tlieni 
that he would come again, marched his force back 
to Boston, while the settlers kept to their firesides 
for the winter, in comparative safety. 

A small company of soldiers was left in the fort, 







A BIT OF DEERING PARK 



under ('aj)tain W'illard. But Frontenac was not 
idle. His i)lans wiM'e soon to be put into activity. 
Three jjartics were to be sent out; and the first 
set out for Schenectady, whicli was destroyed in 
February, following. Of all the horrible butcheries 
that history records, tliat is undoubtedly the worst. 



70 y-' ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

Another (Ictacliincnt, \uuI(T Ilartol, .start(Ml by the 
way of Tliree Rivers the hist days in January. In 
March they were at Sahnoii l^'aHs, New Hampshire. 
This was a niichiight assault. Sahnon Falls was 
burned, and its settlers slaughtered in cold blood. 
This attack, however, resulted in a retreat, and the 
Indians made their way to the Kennebec to meet 
the force which was to make Casco its ultimate des- 
tination. 

This was headed by Portneuf. He led his force 
overland to the head-wat(Ts of the Kennebec, and 
thence, down stn^am, adding to his contingent from 
every village; keeping on, until he met St. Castin 
and Madockawando. H(M-e they were also joined by 
Hartel, and the combined forces camped at Merry 
Meeting Bay, where their plans for the assault on 
Fort Loyall were finally perfected. 

Fort Loyall was in a perilous state. Sir William 
I'hipps had embarked on his exjx'dition against 
Nova vScotia — as if there were not sufiicient need to 
keep whatever of military force that was to be 
had, at home — and had taken Captain W'illard and 
liis soldiers along with him. W'iiJai'd was succeeded 
by Sylvanus J)avis, whom Willis describes as the 
most energetic man of his time. This was in May, 
five days Ix'fore the combined forces of the French 
and Indians a))])eared imder the walls of the fort. 
At this time there were not seventy-five available 
men in the whole town capable of making a defence. 
These were to be opposed to about fi\'e hiiiidi-cd of 
the allieij enemy, who came into ( asco Hay in canoes. 



V' ROMANCE OF VASrO HAY 71 

Phipj)s had just sailed down the l)ay on his way 
to ArcacUe, and ho had been (nscoxcrcd hy the in- 
vaders, who, with tlie eautious habit jx'cuhaiiy 
savage in its nature, waited until lh(> Phij)j)s fleet 
should have got four or five days' sail away. 

A party of one hundred militia, with a few of the 
men from Fort Loyall, seoured the adjacent country 
for them. While they were aw'ay, some thirty 
young men, with more bravery than wit, thnnv out 
a skirmish line over Munjoy's hill, to see if they 
could discover any indication of the enemy. The 
crest of this hill was perhaps a half-mile from the 
fort. Here was a lane embowered in trees that led 
to a cabin in the edge of the woods. Here was a 
herd of cattle; and the young men noticed them. 
The kine were staring in a startled fashion at 
the fence which surrounded the enclosure. With a 
loud cry the whole party rushed at the barrier, to 
meet a blaze of musketry that killed fourteen of 
them. Those who got off unharmed, took to their 
heels with such success that they got to the fort 
safely. This party was under the command of 
Lieut. Thaddeus Clark. This was on the fifteenth 
of May, 1690; and immediately after the ambush 
of Clark's men on Munjoy hill, the savages made 
a general attack on the houses in the village, where- 
ever the inmates had not had time to get to the fort, 
— a series of onslaughts which continued through 
that day. During the night the settlers mostly got 
into the fort. 

The next morning the assault l)egan. The enemy 



72 Yf: Rn}[.\XrE OF CASCO BAY 

came out into the o[)(MI and suininoncd the fort to 
surrender. 

Ca))tain Davi.s .shouted l)aek, in reply, — '" We sliall 
defend ourselves to the death." 

Then the settlement was looteiL Here and there, 
the Haines broke through the roofs, and the air was 
thick with smoke and war-whoo{)s, and the boom- 
ing of the fort cannon. So the first day i)assed, 
without inci(l(>nt, other than the demoniac uproar 
among the French and Indians outside the fort 
walls, and the determined attitude of the b(»sieged. 
On the second day, the i^'rench began a regular ap- 
proach by trenching, or mining. Surrender was inev- 
itable; ))ut tlH> little garrison held out. Then an 
ox-cart, heapeil with combustible's, and lighted, was 
])Ush(Ml u\) to the wooden wall of the fort, which 
was at once in a fierce l)laze. The white flag was 
then shown from the fort. 

"Are there any French among you, — and will 
you give quarter?" shouted Davis. 

" Yes, and we will give good (luarters," was the reply. 

Then Davis surrendered to l^urneffe, who had 
charge of the combined forces; and the usual scene 
of butchery began. The terms of the ca|)itulation 
w(M-e violated, and the jirisoners w^ere unhesitatingly 
turned over to the savages, when the gory tragedy 
of Schenectady was enacted anew. Only a few were 
left alive, some ten or twelve, and these were carried 
cai)tive to Canada. Everything was burned or razed 
to the ground; after which, this horde of French and 
Indian devils rctui'ned to (Quebec. 



y: h'OMAXCI-: OF CASCO BAY To 

This downfall of Fort Loyal! coiniilclcd tho talc 
of (lisastci- to this section of the i'rovince of Main{S 
for, after this, all the <2;arrisons cast of \\'clls were 
abandoned. 

If the Phipps expedition ha<l sailed earlier in the 
season, jx'i'haps this settlement of (^asco wonld ha\'c 
HMnained unmolested; as, not lon<2; afterward, the 
French ceased their operations in Maine, havin<;- 
cnou<2;h to do in opi)osing the invasion of their own 
rrovince. 

For f()iirt(HMi years after, CavSco was left to the 
doniinancy of Natur(\ If there were anyone here, 




it must have been the hermit Ingersoll. Then^ is 
a tradition that he remained among the ruins. At 
this day one can hardly imagine these things, as 
one looks down the bay up which this flotilla canu^ 
yet it all came to i)ass, as it is written. 

The story of the capture of the garrison at (\'isco 
must needs be a short one, but the (>nvironment is 
interesting. Hen^ was a mimic stage, thronged with 
actors, the plot of th(> play ])eginning with tlie French 
Occupation, and contimiing down through years of 



YJ^ J^OMAXCE OF CASCO HAY 



international quarrel. The French Court was cor- 
rupt and conscienceless. The English were stubborn 
and stolid. Both were intensely selfish. It was 
the English game of shuttlc-eock and battle-door, 
and the colonists were the unfortunates to bear the 
bufl'ets and misfortunes of the contest. Perhaps the 
French were more considerate of those who had 
sailed away from the sunny slopes of France, than 
was England of her Puritan fonient(>rs of r(>ligious 
discord and dissent. A\'hichever way it was, the 




THE COX HOUSE 



English settlcM- would have been exterminated, but 
for his bull-dog tenacity, and his lik(> stolid disre- 
gard for everything but the preservation of the new 
State, which, even then, he saw witli pi'ophetic vision. 

The trail has Ikhmi taken at its beginning, and lias 
been followed, as at a galloj): for one can hardly 
span a period of two generations, within so nar- 
row a ))oundary as has marke(l this glimpse of the 
Casco of Cleeve. 

The treatv of PvVswick, ^W7, terminated the war, 



yj^ ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



I ■) 



with noithor peaco, nor safoty, to the colonists. 
Europe was constantly disturbed hy wars, as ])reg- 
nant with disaster to the Aniei-icaii colonists as to 
the home country. \\\\\\ the advent of the S])anish 
succession controversy came the wars of (^ueen Anne. 
The French were j)articularly active. One of the 
results was the Boston expedition aj[:;ainst Acadia, 
which place was devastated and its ))easantry driven 
into exile: a never-to-be-foro;()tten event, — for the 
story of l"]vangeline and hei' wandering lover thrills 




WlcLELLAN HOUSE 



with a pathos which will live as long as the world 
has a language. The treaty of Utrecht, 1713, was 
followed hy thirty years of peace; and the country 
about this beautiful bay was again repeo}^led. 

Recalling something of the history of the times, 
the death of Charles VI, (nn])ei-or of Dermany, be- 
came the occasion of a fierc(> war for the Austrian 
succession, in which all th(^ han-opean powers and 
their colonies l)(>came actively engaged. Frederick, 
the youthful king of Prussia, struck th(> first blow in 



i(j y!- HOMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

his attempt to securo Silosia, and suoooodod in en- 
listing a powerful aid in his supi)ort. France joined 
the alliance; and England, four years after, declared 
Avar against France. The Massachusetts colonists, 
ai)pr('hending danger, and anticii)ating this event by 
two years, had, as early as 1742, ordered the erection 
of fortifications at Falmouth Neck for the defense of 
the harbor; and a fort was built upon the site of old 
Fort Loyall. In May. two years later, came the con- 
flict which let loose, from their swamps and forest 
lairs, the subtle and ever active enemy of the I-]nglish 
settler, — the foe characterized by Cotton ]\Iath(>r as 
" half-one and half t'otht^r, half-Indianized French 
and half-Frenchified Indians," — whose depreda- 
tions were to cease only with Harmon's ca])ture of 
Norridgewock, and the Ixittle of Lovewell's Fond. 
This war was known as King George's^ in America. 
The principal event in it, was th(^ capture of Louis- 
berg, the great stronghold of French America, by 
Sir ^^'illiam Peppen^ll. The war was terminated by 
the treaty of Aix la Chapelle. Of the subsequc^nt 
hostilities, Canada was the th(\itr(\ 

From the blufts of this old town a beautiful i)an- 
orama of sea and shore, miles in extent, attracts the 
attention of the sight-seeing visitor. Behind, are the 
roofs of a charming city; and before, is the bay full 
of white sails of yachts and ships; while the horizon 
of the sea is hazy with the trailing smokes of incoming 
and outgoing steamers. Instead of the single dun- 
colored sail of Cleeve, there an^ ships from far Cathay, 
and from all the world; and there are islands bv the 



YE ROMAXCE OF CA.SCO BAY 



11 



score, dotted with summer cottages and hotels and 
the white tents of the campers. In olden time, these 
islands offered great attractions to the settlers, with 
their picturesque beauty, their large areas, bold 
cliffs and variety of scenery. They were the great 
resorts for sea-fowl, whose spring migrations reached 
their height about the niiddk! of May, when the 
ledges afforded good shooting. Now, one sees noth- 
ing but the brown sea-birds or sand-birds, with an 




A FRUITERER 



occasional "ring-neck" or "yellow-leg," whirling 
along the flats with a peculiar, cjuick rolling motion, 
like a flurry of leaves in the autunm wind. The 
woods and rocks al)oun(l in charming nooks, their 
floors cariK'ted with trailing vines and soft mosses, 
seamed with byways and old roads, choked with 
half-grown bushes and tall, flaunting W(>eds. The 
unfenced island pastures arc full of delicate^ ferns and 
lichens, with here and there, among the saucer- 
shaped American yew, spots of arbutus growing lux- 



7« 



yj' h'OMAXCIi OJ- CASCO HAY 



iiriantly, witli ^Tcat waxen <;'i'('(ii leaves, l)looining in 
th(> early sprinjz;, even while the winter snows linger 
among the hillocks. Tall, gaunt mulleins are scat- 
tered about, sentinel-like, among the gray boulders; 
and over the l(>dges, in sunny spots, trail masses of 
the blackberry vine, with richly colored stems and 
leaves, and later in the sununer, laden with juicy, 
dusky fruit. On the ledges, clumps of tireweed reach 




up tluMr tall, lance-like stalks, flaunting their spiky 
blossoms in the sunlight, making one think of crim- 
son banners streaked with (loss of ripened seeds. As 
the wind conu^s u]) with the sun, th(>ir downy em- 
l)roidei'y in myriads of tiny shi'eils is blown over the 
pastures, and out u|»on the l)lue watei's, arg()si(>s to 
Nowh(M-e. 

The outlook is a peculiarly pleasing one, ox'er- 
looking as it does the broad e\|)anse of the bay. 



}'A' A'n.u.i.vr/'; OF cA.sco hay 79 

with all its variety of natural adornnicnt. To the 
north and west, beyond the roofs of old Stroudvvater, 
are patches of forest, niakino; a rare settinj^; for hun- 
dreds of thrifty farms that reach far inland and 
along the shores of the bay, and forming tlie sub- 
urbs of th(> city. Eastward the dark line of Har])s- 
well makes the limit of vision, broad stretches of 
water intervening. Overhead the gulls wheel in 
silent, graceful flight; and along the horizon of the 
sea, soft, bright-colored clouds are i)il(Ml low down 
upon the gray waters, against which the svuilit sails 
of the coasters and fishing-fleets are clearly outlined. 
When the storm-signal is uj), the fishing smacks may 
be counted by scores in the oflfings, or within the 
shelter of the numerous island roads, or under the 
lee of th(> gray old forts. The dredgers ))ly their 
work with slow and lazy movement, the black smoke 
drifting away from their dingy stacks in dense ragged 
ribbons as the shovels lift loads of mud from the deeps 
of the channels. A diffei'ent spectacle certainlv is 
this from that which might have been witnessed here 
a hundred and seventy years ago, when the bay un- 
der the eastern promontory of the Neck was thronged 
with flotillas of gayly decorated Indians from all parts 
of the Maine Province, repi-eseiiting the great Ktche- 
niin family by scores of Sagamores and their accom- 
panying delegations, — an occasion graced by the 
presence of the governors of both Massachusetts and 
New Hampshire, all haxing come togethei' to solem- 
nize the Dununer treaty. 

A few miles southward are the marshes of Scar- 



80 



¥'■: h'OMAM'K OF CASCO BAY 



borough, wliorc {\w outlaw Houythou and his comely 
daughter iiuul(> their rude home; and where, as well, 
the former held some sway after a sa\'age sort, among 
the Saco tribes. Ruth Bonython was a wilding 
fiow(>r of rare and modest beauty, and cc^ually se- 
ductive charm; and with all the passions of a savage, 
she loved as other maidens are like to do; yet, all 




OFF MARTIN'S POINT 

we have left of that, to her. sweet passion, is lost 
in the glamor of untold romanc(>. It was the old 
story of the times, — a jealous lover, a rival among 
the Saco sagamores, a story of hat(^ and treachery, 
and that, too, lost, or submerged in a dark tragcMly 
that lives only among the silences of the woods and 
fields that hem the yellow marsh-lands to th(^ sea. 
^^'hittier has hallowed the womanhood of Ivuth Bony- 
thon in ))oetic fancy, a legend of fascinating and 
romantic character. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 81 

Mogg MogoTio, whoso love for Ruth Bonython cost 
her, her own and her lover's hfe, hved but a few 
miles away from the Bonython home. They were 
neighbors, with a strij) of woods between. His were 
the shades of gloomy silenee among the Druid-like 
shafts of the giant pines and hemlocks; and Ruth 
Bonython's, the reaches of ojK'n lands that lost them- 
selves in the salt-marsh grasses seamed with shallow 
creeks, sinuous, each a filiament of translucency to 
catch and play riot with every fleeting hue of the 
sky, like a pile of rich yellow stuffs overshot with 
threads of silver and azure, and all this headed against 
the restless sea. 

But, here is Sagamore Bonython's epitaph, — 

"Here lies Bonython, 
Sagamore of Saco; 
He lived a rogue. 
He died a knave. 
And went to Hobomoko." 

There is nothing in all tliis to suggest the site of a 
town once so utterly Idotted out, that after a half- 
generation, no vestige of its former self could be 
found, the culmination of a tragedy of which this 
sketch affords but the merest outline. Instead of a 
wilderness, here is a beautiful city, all of the ap- 
proaches to which, by land, are of inc()in))arable 
beauty. And it is the same, whether one comes 
through the winding avenues of its suburbs, or 
through some one of the many gateways where the 
countless islands stand in the waters like i)ickets, the 



82 



yi: HOMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



shores serrated with l()\v-l)asti()ne(l forts, each over- 
topped by <i;iddily-i)oised derricks that lean as lazily 
ajiaiiist the sky; there is enough to fascinate the 
straiifjer so that his intlifferent sojourning of hours, 
is like to become one of days and weeks, even. 




STOGUMMOR 




STOGUMMOR 



J/W-r A^^ ^^^^^^ 1''^'^' l'^^''l''^^'^ '^^^'^ i)orti()n 

''■'iM-fx- ^^^ ^'^ UukI, hogiiining at the farthcr- 

%piC\ ^f -^- ;^ I most point of a neck of land called 

#%:S^tKr^^ by the Indians Machigonne, and 

^^^- ' rf'\>'^ now forever and henceforth to be 

.; / ^ ; k^y- called or known by the name of 

-' Stoguninior, and so along the same 

as it tend(>th to the first fall of a little river issuing out 

of a very small pond, and from thence overland to the 

Falls of Pesumsca, being the first falls in that river, 

upon a straight line, containing by estimation from 

fall to fall as aforesaid about one English mil(\ which 

together with said neck of land which the said (ieorge 

Cleeve and Richard Tucker have planted for divers 

years already expired is estimated in the whole to 

be fifteen hundred acres or thereabouts; as also one 

island — known by the nanu^ of Hogg Island — to 

the end and full term of two thousand y(>ars, fully 

to be completed and ended." 

So read a bit of iixdvd blue paper, upon which 
85 



86 



y/v ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 





these lines wei'e traced in a delicate hand and with 
a wonderful regularity, the beautilul characters of 
which had bleached into an almost invisible yellow 
in some ])arts, so that 1 had nuich difliculty in de- 
('i])herin<i that which has just passed under the 
Header's eye; and even this was fast beinsi- desti-oycd 

by tlie miscdiievous 
mice, for its ed<2;('s 
were gnawed on all 
sides, — so (>venly 
that they remiiKknl 
me of a kind of 
handiwork my 
mother used to do 
with her i)inking 
iron. 

T h i s p a p e r, 

though mutilated, 

*=■ was dated in ltu> 

early i)art of the 

year \{VM], and bore 

Gor-tifii $<.w.l iA,v-o o-uic o^va^W the appearance of 

Ll ec>re omtcX lo-ckfcr^ 'awtc c>.«uu» bcingnuiteancient , 

though it could 
hard!}' haN'c been the original indenture, lacking as it 
did the handsome seal of ( iorg(»s, and his scrawling 
signature as well; for this old pine chest would be hard- 
ly the proper de))ository, even if it were held amctng 
the treasures of this old-time hostelry, for so distin- 
guishe(l a document . in which were originally describecl 
the ancient boundaries of Stogummor, now the site of 



0^ C4^: 



Y^: RiKMANCI'J OF (ASCO li.W (S7 

a certain fair city; but it was an acnirato copy cer- 
tainly of the (lescri])tive ])art of ihe ori<:;inal lease 
from Sir Fei'd. (ior<2;es to tlie first two settlers of this 
part of the country, — for wliich, considerable tract 
of country, but a hundi-ed pounds wer(> paid, with a 
small animal rental besides. The cousideration for 
so much land, — and there wvw several s(iuai-e miles 
of it, — se(>ms small indeed; but there had been 
dithculty in effecting a settlement on this same si)ot 
only two years before l)y some adventurers who came 
over from the city of London in the good ship Ploiu/h, 
only to return a few months later, a disheartened 
and half-starved colony, — which may have had 
something to do with the matter; ludess the fact that 
the Council of Plymouth had made so many land- 
grants to one person and another, the b(nuidari(>s 
of which ov(M'lapped, plunging everybody into land 
controversy wdio claimed an acre of land along th(> 
coast, furnished a stronger and better nvison. Land 
titles were much in doubt, and Lidian deeds were 
in many instances ])referred by settlers to deeds from 
the English pro})rietors. I have in miiid a jiopu- 
lous township at the eastern extremity of the great 
bay of which this ])urchase made the southern coast 
trend, that was once dfH'ded by Sachem Robin Hood 
for a hogshead of corn and thirty pumpkins. This 
lease was in fact (Hiuivalent to a fee simple, in legal 
parlance, tlie seizin to which was no doubt made in 
the old-fashioned way, by the lessor or his agent giv- 
ing to the lessee a twig or bit of earth tak(>n from 
the premises conveyed, — a custom grown obsolete 



88 y- ROMANCE OF CASCO HAY 

ill those (lays of crowded ))()i)ulatioiis and subdivided 
titles. 

The entire coast-line of Maine is remarkable for 
its historic lamhnarks, its islands, inlets and wide- 
nioiitlicd rivers, and their old-time peoples, whose 
history is one of inexorable living; for it was more 
than strenuous, environed with such a multitude of 
precarious circumstance. Cabot had sailed i)ast its 
headlands. "Captyne" John Smith of Mrginia fame 
had fished in its deep l;)ays, and had filled the sails 
of his shi])s with its pine-flavored land breezes, and 
drenche(l them in its dri])i)ing, drifting mists; and 
later, it became closely identified with the settle- 
ments of New France. It was a j)art of that Ar- 
cadie whose little village of (h-and I'li' has become 
the saddest, and yet the sweetest land of romance of 
the New A\'orld. Th(> floors of its almost pathless 
woods were seamed with a network of trails, — ])e- 
wildei'ing almost, as those of Da'dalian Crete, — 
that marked the French Occupation. 

About the first decade of the sf^'enteenth century, 
the pioneer Jesuits, (,hientin and DuFliet, fired with 
holy zeal for the Church, and with a laudable am- 
i)iti()n in the behalf of the French king, had crossed 
the seas with other French adv(Mitu!"(M"s, and had 
])lanted the Cross on what Chami)lain had named, 
"The Lsle of Monts Deserts." Here was established 
the first Mission on the ^hiine coast, the ^lis.sion of 
St. Sauveur: and which was shortly after completely 
obliterated by .\rgall in one of his buccaneering 
foravs; which, to be more exact, was in the summer 



TA' ROMANCE OF CASCO HAY 89 

of 1617. Du Thet was killed, iiiatchlock in hand; 
and tho only memorial of this ill-starred venture of 
the Church, are the crags and wooded slopes that 
loom and tower above the waters that bore its vest- 
ments hither. 

Sieur De Champlain had wintered and explored 
amid its deeps of winter snows; had stalked its deer 
and moose through its wilderness of dusky spruce, 
— the same old forest giants that to-day cast their 
gloomy shadows across the waters of the upper Pe- 
nobscot, — for here, in the heart of this densely 
wooded inlantl, was old Xorridgeivack, a French out- 
post, and afterward the scene of the Jesuit Rasle's 
mission work. 

It was here in these dee])s of shaggy gloom that 
this church diplomat gatheivd his settlement of In- 
dians to school them in the white man's ways of 
worshi)), and as well his ai't in war. It was here he 
built his chapel devoted to priestly service, matin 
and vesper, which to the untutored savage were but 
mystic rites; and In- which Rasle held in leash the 
"half-Frenchified Indians," as Mather styled them, 
and who were let loose at one time and another upon 
the English settlements fi'om St. George to Yf)rk, 
with Madockairanrlo or C'astine at their head. Rasle's 
rude chapel was a most convenient rendezvous for 
the perpetrators of these savageries, and which was 
partly destroyed by Westl)rook's Penobscot exixnli- 
tion, and a year or so later, completely obliterat(Ml 
by Harmon of York. 

Eastward, where the Penobscot widens out into 



90 y^' h'OMAXCK Of CASCO BAY 

\hv Hay, yet hardly so far down as \ho Havens, the 
\vi<i;\vani lircs of liaron Castiiic huriicd, and with so 
steady a glow, that the waters, even now, thereal)()ut, 
are tinfjed with the romance of the dusky wife who 
fed them, and whose heart was no less warm toward 
her titled French 1ov(M-. 

And, why not 1 

Here was a Realm of Pvomance, with all the ele- 
ments of love, devotion, intri<!;vie, treachery, and con- 
flict; for the Vx'autiful Penobscot was the highway 
to that mythical Xoromhegua, whose gleaming towers 
were the \\'ill-o'-t he-wisp of many a ])erilous New 
A\'orld pilgrimage and as d(>lusive search; for it was 
hither in ciuest of this Eldorado of the pathless woods, 
that Sir Humphrey Gilbert was sailing, in the brave 
ship A(hnir(tl when it foundered off Cape Sable in an 
autunmal gale, and which he abandoned for a "little 
ffiigate" that afterward met the same fate in a furious 
storm off the Azores. Nothing was vxvr aftc^'ward 
heard of her ca])tain, or crew, after the waves had 
hidden the glow of their biimacle lamp from sight. 

From the days of Hieronymas da \'errazan(), who 
miidd ma])s in 1529, this lost city of Xoronihrfpia be- 
came the vainly sought-for Mecca of many a knightly 
soul, whose devotions, tinged first with desire, were 
finally absorbed in a great pur])ose, that saw, in the 
golden sunsets that set the wilderness treeto])s a-swirl 
in a sea of molten glory, visions akin to thos(^ of 
John at I'atmos, when the old heavens were rolled 
u)) as a scroll and he saw a new hea\'en. and a new 
earth — the simple memorial of which was a rude 



VA- ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 91 

cross that marked the s]K)t of that rcvohition of the 
Heavenly City to the New Workl pilgrim. Such a 
cross was found by Champlain. \'ery old and mossy 
it was; and buried in the deeps of the Penobscot 
woods; the only relic of this city of barbaric splendor, 
with its towers and roofs and domes of gold aglow 
with the hving light of the sun. An ignus fatuus it 
proved to be: an em])ty dream; a s])lendid fal)le. 
But the legend on this old isolated cross — there 
was none. His days of toilsome search ended, the 
story was lost, buried with him, whose last resting- 
place some faithful henchman had marked with one 
of the fleeting elements of Time. Only the finger of 
God had traced his epitaph in the tender, graceful 
hierqglyphics of the vagrant mosses and lichens, that, 
like lover's kisses, clung to this emblem of a more 
sacred memory. 

David Ingraham, one of John Hopkins' sailors, 
w'ho had Ix'en set on shore, and deserted somewhere 
about the Gulf of Mexico, along with a hundred others 
of his companions, and wdio found his way north- 
ward along the coast and over the Indian trails to 
St. John, imagined he saw those roofs of gold upheld 
by their pillars of silver; but the strange sights and 
the w^onderful Norombegua of which he told the mar- 
velling Londoners on whose behalf Gosnold, and Mar- 
tin Pring became explorers, w'ere never seen by mor- 
tal eye. It was a splendid dream of a rich and mag- 
nificent city; a New^ World Bal)ylon; which, had it 
been realized, might have been classed as the eighth 
wonder of the world, worthy of the fairest legentlary 



92 



}■''•• NOMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 




yj^ HOMAXCE OF CASCO HAY 03 

setting, such as a Longfellow or \\'hitti('r might fabric 
out of a forest wiklerness whose ta])ering spires ;ni(l 
massy domes of tree-tops leaned sh(>er against, 

"The embers of the sunset's fires 
Along the elouds burned (h)\vn, — " 

and one can say with Whit tier's Norman henchman 
to his master, 

'"Is it a chaiM'l l)ell tliat lills 
The air witli its low tune? ' 
'Thou hear'st the tinkle of the rills, 
The insect's vesper drone.'" 

Thus X()r(»i)h('(j)i(i has ever l)een amid the moss- 
festooned hemlocks of this land of shadows and beaded 
lakes, a shadow and a dream. Hatl the exj)lorers 
traversed this sanu^ wildei'ness a century and a half 
later, they might have heard "the A'oice of One cry- 
ing in the wilderness," and mayhaj) his mastei', as 
well; and had they followed its challenge into tlie 
deeper glooms of the forest, they, like Ingram, might 
have told of another city wh(>re Tc Dcinns and Ma;/- 
nificats were the gold and silver of the realm — a city 
of God's own ado])tion whos(> vespers were rung by 
the spirits of th(^ dead; for, how, amid the ancient 
grandem- of th(^s(> Penobscot woods ai'e the ashes 
of the old N()rri(UjiV(ick Mission, whei'e, under the 
roots of a hoary hemlock that had ke]it the calendar 
of the centuries, burdened to its death with the keep- 
ing of its w'eird secrets of Indian savagery, of sack 
and fire-lit ruins, and that had fallen, a })rey to a 



94 



y/- h-DMAXCP: OF CASCO HAY 



(•(■iitiirv of rcinorsc, was found tlic Jesuit Rasle's 
chapel hell whose first resiKHise to the touch of the 
stranger was a challenge, that became momently a 
retiuiem, to die away in a soft, sweet hencdicitc. 
(), the speech of Rasle's chapel-hell! 
T have listened to its weii'd vihrations; and if its 
first notes miconsciously ([uickened the jjulsing of 

my life curnMits, 
those which fol- 
lowed gave me 
a singular sense 
of chill, like 
one's c o n tact 
with some cold, 
uncanny thing 
after the dusk 
has fallen — a 
Dai" of s])ider's 
weh across the 
ace, o r the 
touch of some 
hai'iuless crawl- 
ing thing that 
makes one's 
hands the acci- 
dental highway 
of its predatory excursion. Ah! hut those long im- 
awakened voicings — ahrupt, iiiii>erious, militant — 
softly ])leading? hardly; hut rather the rasping utt(n-- 
ance of a higot soul, whose nakeihu^ss is hut scantily 
concealed hv the worn sluc(lsof its ascetic garh. Its 




^Vs(^Lbef dn't 



}'/•■ ROMAXCt: OF CASCU BAY 05 

heart is ^oi^^'j ^iii'l its spooeh is hollow us ii' from the 
fieshless lips of a skull, and as thin as the cen^nients of 
the long-buried dead; and as hopeless as the cause for 
which it onee stood. As the dim light of the lofty- 
ceiled room where it re{)oses in silence, l)ut for the 
touch of strange hands, falls U{)on it, visions of ascetic 
vigil, savage tmnult and massacre, yes, and misguided 
prayer are painted upon its l)ronze sides. Every d(>nt 
and scar upon its time-worn surface are epics of adven- 
ture and war waiting to be translated — love lyrics, 
too, and low-voiced chants, and songs of triumi)h and 
defeat smothered in the smokes of countless council- 
fires. Swarthy faces glower and scowl at one, until 
one turns away involuntarily under the stress of such 
vivid imagery. For a century one may believe this 
old bell has swung amid [hr gloomy naves of th(>se 
primeval forests, 

"(iod's first t(Mii])los," 

tolled by every surging temp(>st; but vainly has it 
called to the disembodied si)irits it once kn(nv so 
weh. A Wandering Jew, cast in lasting bronze, haunt- 
ing secrets hide within the cavern where hangs its 
silent tongue; secrets weird, uncanny; and no wonder 
it cries out in sharp agony at every alien touch. "\Mio 
knows but that Rasle's restless soul is as yet unre- 
leased from its lirazen thrall? The l^ook of Reve- 
lation w^as closed with Patmian John, and from now 
on, to the end of Time, we can oidy look and dream 
over the treasures of the ])ast that have come down 
to us through such stress of exposure and hardsliip, 



9G 



yi- h'OMAXCK OF CASCO HAY 



while the iiiuifiinalion runs riot for the hick of some- 
thin*]; more authentic. 

So nuich of u chfi;ression from the matter outlinetl 
at tlie opening of this chapter may he pardoned, for 
a mental pilgrimage across this old-tinu^ Dominion 
of Maine, with so nuich of legend ami romance lin- 
gering about one's foolstei)s, is not without its charm. 
But to return to its more southerly part, to Stogum- 

nioi', which soon he- 
came the easterly 
outpost of the earlier 
luiglish colonizat ion, 
the student of early 
N w 








of the J'^nglish, to hav(^ h)ll()wed close upon the heels 
of a settlement upon the Saco Iviver, which may he 
credited to the enterprise and dai'ing of Richard \'in(>s, 
who was somewhat of an advent lU'er; and who is 
said to have lost his life in a drunken l)rawl in \'ir- 
ginia some years afterwaid. Here, upon the Snco 
Kiver, rude mills were erected, and with a h'W like, 
rude dwellings, th(>y formed the ])rlmarv sett lenient 
of the I'Jiglish in the wilderness then known to the 
Massachusetts Bay Colony as the I'l'dxiiice of Maine. 



¥!■: ROMAXrE OF CASCO HAY 



97 



As the eastcni-boiind travcllor loaves the Saco of 
to-day behind him, long l)aiTens of .shifting sands 
and reaches of ocean shore widen out along his i)ath- 
way. The broadly-dyked marshes, fringed with 
stunted Norway ])ine growth, through which, with 
many a twist and turn, come winding down the 
waters of the Nonsuch and Spurwink, that rush in 
with every tide, to slink away a bit later with scarcely 










I '^ 



TO PINE POINT 






perceptible el)b; the hazy line of distant woods al- 
most as blue as the sky that reaches so tenderly 
down to meet it, and the salt sea-winds, combine to 
arouse the most pleasurable sensations, impelling one 
to lay aside reading matter, and, with car window 
wide op(>n, to drink to the full the enjoyment of the 
constantly changing scenery that makes the exqui- 
site charm of the breezy lowlands of old Scarboro. 
A ride over these marshes flecked with the blue waters 
of their salt creeks, with their flights of scui-birds, 
their ]ieak(Ml stacks of brown marsh hay, their shift- 



98 }''•- ROMANVE OF CASCO BAY 

iiij:; shadows of fl\-inf2; clouds, with llic lo\v-l)r()\V('d 
farinliouscs aloiiu; their iiphinds, is one of incrcasinir 
hitorcst; fof hereabout, and just south of the land 
descrilxHl in the (iorges lease as Casco Neck, lived two 
men, who, within two y(>ars and a lialf after they had 
Iniilt their log cabins upon the Scarboro clearings, 
left th(>ni to become the pioneer settlers of so-called 
Stogunnnor. It was about th(\se low, green, salt- 
marsh levels, wh(M"e in th(> time of Mary (iarvin, 

"\\'cstward on the sea winds 
That damp and gusty grow, 
Over eedars darkening inland 
The smokes of Spurwink blew," 

that George C'leeve hv(>d. lI(M-e his narrow acres 
were cleannl. Here Ih^ plantcnl his corn among the 
blackened stumps of the newly burnt lands. 

()n(> late sunnner day in Ki.'v'^, a small vessel ap- 
peared off Poodack shore, trinuning her sails past 
this bold ca))e of many islands, bidding np the lower 
roadstead of Casco Bay, with Hogg Island o^•er her 
star])oar(l rail. A motley freight coni))rised her bill 
of lading, if she had any, which is doubtful, as this 
voyage took place Ix^fore tlu^ day of custom-houses. 
Men, women and cattl(% and rude utensils and furni- 
ture were huddled together under tlu^ sheltered cool- 
ness of her dun-colored sails, their soft gray shadows 
dee{)ening and lengthening as the afternoon wore on. 
Instead of broad acres of roofs, with scores of stately 
towers and mellow haze of low-lying smokes, to greet 
this strange wayfarer of the sea; instead of slips and 



YE ROMAXCK OF CA^CO BAY 1)0 

spacious (IcK'ks, only a I'ib of yellow sand, — and 
overlooking it, a long ridge of woodland lay out- 
stretched under the summer sun. A New World 
wilderness of for(\st-clad peninsula, with many a 
morass, and whortleberry swamp, and run of si)ark- 
ling sj)ring water within its dense growths of oak 
and pine; the roaming-ground of wild b(>asts; and of 
Mogg Megon(>, who in after days sold a part of it to 
Sagamore Boynthon in consideration that his pale- 
faced tlaughter should 

"sit in the Sachem's door, 
And braid the mats for his wifjwam floor, 
And broil his fish and tender fawn, 
And weave his wampum and grind his corn :" 

a thing which never came to pass, though the deed 
was made, and Mogg's signature of a hunter's bow 
duly affixed. 

Cleeve might have noted, as he rode in on the flood 
of the tide, once over the rocks of Staniford Ledge, 
at his right, and standing boldly out on the v(»rdant 
incline of House Island, Christopher Level t's house, 
built some dozen years before. There may have 
been no verdant fields, but rather a tangle of bush 
and jungle that always comes to abandoned places. 
The Levett house may have been hidden by the low 
spruce growths that were common to these patches 
of land amid seas. It may have, in that time, rotted 
down, or have been overwhelmed by some one of 
the autunmal gales that were wont to sweep land- 
ward from the Gulf Stream. It is natural to suj)- 



L.ofC. 



lUO 



I'A' h'OMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 



pose that the tooth of Thiie would not neglect so 
fair a prey; and yet, in those far-oh" ilays, the habi- 
tations of men were most solidly construetcnl of 
hewn logs; and tlie roofs were made tight; and tlie 
shingles were I'ivcu and sliaved; and th(>y should 
have he(Mi good for a century, at least, — but there 
were other vicissitudes, of fire, of savage retaliation 
upon so lit'lpless and lonely a vestige of a feared antl 
hated intruder. That Cleeve made no mention of it, 




NEAR STANIFORD LEDGE 



is perhaps singular. But Cleeve was a Inisy man, 
with grave and weighty projects on hand, lie was 
occupied with his own acres, with John Winter sow- 
ing tares even within the shadow of the ('l('e\'(^ door- 
ste]). lie might have mentioned it a hundr(Ml times, 
and the telling of it iniglit not liax'e got beyond the 
kitchen walls; but tliat it was tliefe is something 
not to be doubted for a moment; for be^•ett^s own 
story is as authentic as anything wiitten of tliose 



YE ROMANCE OF (A SCO BAY 



101 



early days. It is at least a cheerful thing to think 
of, as all old rooftrees an^ with so much of niys- 
t(M-y and romance lurking in the dusky corners of 
their olden garrets amid the dust and webs of the 
sj)ider. 

Two years after the murder of Bagnall, and the 
date of the tragedy is put down as Oct. 3, 1631, 
the Council of riymouth granted to Robert Tre- 
lawney and Moses (loodyean, merchants of Ports- 




A FINE OLD TOWN 



mouth, Kng., Richmond island: and from the ruins of 
Bagnall's caljin arose that of John A\'intcr, as Tre- 
lawney's agent, a man who, if history tells the truth, 
was not less scrupulous than his |)redecessor, though 
more ]i()litic. But George Richmon and '\\'alter 
Bagnall were the first white men, with the exception 
of Levett's brief sojourn at House Island, to occupy 
any part of what was afterward known as Falmouth, 
living at Richmond's Island as early as 1628. AMiere 
liagnall came from, oi' who he was, is uncertain. 



102 



yi- h'OMAXCl'J OF CASCO BAY 



Sainsbury in his ''Calendar of Colonial Papers, '" says, 
"Dec. 2, 1681, Patents to Walter Bagnall for a 
small island called Richmond, with 1,500 acres of 
land." \\'inthrop says, "He lived alone upon his 
island, and in three years had accumulated about 
£400 by his trade with the Indians, whom he much 
wronged." 

Up the harbor came the little vessel, to the tawny 
sands that then lay so still and peaceful under the 

^ < "^^ ''~^ j^' 




PUR POODACK 



shelter of their lofty promontory. It was Cleeve, 
who had sailed hither from Scarboro marshes, hoping 
to avoid hereafter the covetous interference of Tre- 
lawney's agent; and it was Cleeve's destiny to lay 
here the foundation of a memorable old town. 

What a fine old town it is! To the north ebb and 
flow the broad waters of an ocean iidet ; eastward 
is the island-crowded bay, that n^aches almost to 
Pemaquid; on the south is an estuary of the sea, 
that runs west and south around its curving shores, 
making at high tide almost an island of this wild 



Yi: ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY Ki:] 

country of th(> old days, tli(> inotcs and hounds of 
wliich the reader has already scanned; 

"Which stretches away on either haiul, 
As far ahout as my feet can str;iy 
In the half of a gentle summer's <lay;" 

and which held tlu! romance of old StoKuninior. 




A RELIC 





A RELIC 

F my rcmlcr will fjo witli mo to an 
(iM liarhor, not less anc'u'nt and 
liistoric than many others alon<i; 
the New Juigland coast, re('kone(l 
([uite famous; nor less distin- 
ijuishod l)ecause an adventurer, 
one C'apt. John Smith of \'ir<iinia, 
should have anchored witliin the 
shelter of its charming islands and 
l)road, peac(>ful roads, more than 
two centuries ajro, much of the 
old-time landmark will l)e dis- 
cover(>d; and signs of a ])eriod when i)lain living and 
unpretentious comfort, were as much the accompani- 
ments of prosperity and foi-ehande(lness, as are some 
of the more garish externals of to-day; easily recog- 

m? 




108 ¥'■■' h'OMAXCE OF r.i.sro />'.!}' 

nizcd as .slaiidiiig for a real or siinulalcd geiilility, 
whose occupation, is as much, tlie kec^ping up of pros- 
perous appearances, as the profitable spending of a 
genteel leisiu'e. 

Now, a flourishing suburb of a fail' and flourishing 
city, as it was in more ancient times a i)lace of some 
local imj)oi'tance, once ])r()vincial, I'ur Poodack is 
as good a place as any in which to pitch one's tent 
for a few days in midsunnncM-; for not only do its 
winds blow freshly from the sea, bringing the sound 
of the tide with it, but riglit here uj)on this neck 
of land, named in honor of good (^ueen Bess, are 
scores of beautiful sunnner cottages and sightly lo- 
cations y(^t to be occu])ie(l, and countless beauties 
and suggestions of rare color of landscape and water. 
Everything hereabout has th(^ genuine New England 
flavor. The city across the tide-river is a tyj^ical 
New England city, with all of N(nv I*]ngland's con- 
servatism and slow adoption of new things; adhering 
to the old-fashioned ])rinciples of economy with a 
steadiness marv(>llous in these days of swift ])rogres- 
sion; with as nuich money and brains as of anything 
else. A ([uarter of an hour's walk or ride from 
town will l)ring one in sight of honu^ly homesteads 
and ancient orcliMi'ds: homesteads whose cellars wove 
cxca\'ated before the first foundation stone was laid 
in the more j)retentious nieti'opolis of the stale; 
surroimdings not less interesting than (plaint and 
ancient-looking, possessing a chai'in and value to 
the true New I'>nglander that woids and figures 
fail to exi)ress, so loyal is the heart to the homely 



r/-' HOMASCE OF (WSCO BAY 



109 



cormiioiiplaces tliat made up the (l('li<;lits of caiTicr 
(lays. 

Beautiful, old-fasliioncd New Ijigland has abund- 
ant ehann for all licr children, and of all her varied 
scenery none is more beautiful and atti'actix'c than 
the indented coast line and the inland bordci'in*! upon 
it of southwestern Maine. I'rom the hisihlands of 
the city that oN'erlook and shelter th(> low domain 
which is in ])art the subject of this sketch, and 







f-f. 



•y ' 







-^-z^^^^ ^^ 



FORE RIVER 



which lies just across a stream, or estuary, always 
called by the unpoetic nanu^ of Fore River, lookino; 
due west, the eye sj)ans the easterly a])i)roaches to 
the mountains of New Hampshire, comjjrised in 
countless su<2;<2;est ions of meadows, yellowish streaks 
of green; slender, winding threads of ri\'('r-fog that 
spread out into ma/.y I'ibbons, and follow, in and out 
the wanderings of many a wayward str(\am, the 
charm of tlunr restful valleys: with hill-slope upon 
hill-slop(> rising in regulai' gradation, broken only l)y 
tlu^ir revelation of <;-i-anite buttress amid their wood- 



110 )'/•- Jx'OMAXCK OF CASCO HAY 

clad beauty. Here and there are thrifty farms and 
cosey li()in(>steads blown over by siunnier gales fresh 
from the western mountains, or swept inland from 
the big ocean, with scents of ai)j)etizing flavor of 
salt sands and wide-spreading marsh; or l)eaten in 
winter l)y storms that j)ile the drifts to hide the 
low ea\'(>s of the farmhouses that he in the pathway 
of the north winds. 

I'rom this outlook one can hardly see the great 
lake of the Sokoki, named after an Indian tribe 
which flovn'ished about its shores some two centuries 
ago, but now known by the ecjually euphonious name 
of Sebcujo; but one can see when^ it is; and on a clear 
day, one does not find it diflicult to make out the low 
trail of mist that locates this nhoci of water scnne- 
what to the north of tiie direct line to the white- 
cappe(l sununit of Moiuit ^\'ashingt()n. 

The imagination is not taxed severely if its gunda- 
lows with their ungainly sails s(>em to be outlined 
against the far-off horizon, as we know they must 
be; for there was in the da\'s gone by no inconsider- 
a))le water traflic passing up and down this inland 
water way. These clumsy affairs schmiuhI then not 
at all incongruous or out of place: but rather to lend 
a poetic charm and interest to this out-of-the-way 
sheet of water, and a certain (piality of romance as 
well; when it was known that thes(^ same gimdalows 
had be(>n anchored under the shadows of these same 
highlands in the (piiet harbor of Piu' I'oodack, moored 
not vmlikely beside some ship from " furrin ])arts." 
In this manner, they had, in some sort, attained 



Y I'' ROMANCE OF C'.l.S'CO BAY 111 

tlio })rostigo of liavin<i; scraixMl an acciuaintance with 
the outer world, which gave them a certain fj(uahty 
of distinction, in sjiite of the long highway of homely 
canal, with the tow horses, the clumsy, leaky locks 
and creaking timbers; and for all this tai'dy move- 
ment to reach this inland destination with one cargo 
after another of W(\st India goods. Such household 
necessities as could not be gleaned from the fields, 
or turned out of the old hand-loom, or realiz(Ml from 
other means connnon to the times and k)cality, came 
by canal. These " necessities " were most likc^ly com- 
prised in the two stapk-s of molasses and .lamaica 
rum, the latter of which was used upon all occasions 
from birth to burial. 

But one sees nowadays from this outlook more 
than this panortmia of treetop and rolling green. At 
the foot of this bold bluff is a white streak of high- 
way, that runs around the town like a swathing l)an(l, 
to hold its roofs tog(>ther. Just outside this white 
dusty line, over which somebody seems to b(^ con- 
stantly travelling, around to the south and west, is 
the estuary, or tidal river that separates the larger 
town from the lesser, which is spanned by numerous 
bridges that radiate from the city like the spokes of 
a huge wheel. Its f^hores are far a]iart, and the 
bright foliage of birch and willow shows brilliantly 
against the hea^•ier masses of woodland, of darker 
pine and hemlock, that tower above them. The con- 
tours of these shores, curving landward as they do, 
make a natural basin, a little lake when the tide is 
at its flood: and here are shi])s at anchor, that have 



112 



)■/■•• h'OMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 



come no doubt for their cargoes of brick, lor along 
these flats are abundant clayey lands, and sand, and 
])ine woods, with which to burn them into hard build- 
ing matcn'ial. Shi[)s were once Iniilt at the head of 
this salt-water creek; and these forest-lined banks in 



P>X 








THE OLD SHIPYARD 

the old privateering days concealed many a Yankee 
sloo]:) from his Majesty's nuMi-o'-war, which had cap- 
tui'e(l many a richly-loaded pi'i/c, and taken it into 
Boston, Salem or Nc'wburyport, much to the chagrin 
of kjiglish cruisers, and much to th(^ pi'ofit of these 
bold highwaymen of the sea. 

'Hie blue waters of the sea disajipeai' at low tide, 
leaving the flats bare; and down these, the slender 
stream of the Capisic rivei' Hows, winding in and out, 
a thread of silver, to find its way slowly into the 
broad basin where the coasters are anchored: and 
where, years ago, the canal, long since abandoned, let 
its inland ships and gundalows iiUo the hai'bor. The 
old lowpalh, not yet ovei'grown and hidden within 
its fringe of rank aldei's, may still be traced along 
the east side of the creek. It is a pleasant ])lace to 
wander, for along the margin of the old canal there is 



VA- h'OMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



113 



many a hit of IxNuitiful l;ui(ls('a])(' that meets one in 
a surprising sort of a way. The ti(l(^ runs fai' up into 
the woods among the farming huids; and th(^ stream 
is notched and ragged, with many a slender ribbon 




Wmmmm 






'}:j'f^Q 



^m; 






Jfjjkr. 



THE BRIDGE OVER THE CANAL 

of woods running out into its silver current ; and many 
a reach of yellow marsh, rusty with briny incrusta- 
tions, making into the i)asture-lands or the low 
fields, often up to the gardens of the farmhouses, 



114 y- h'(KMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

making rare ))i('tiii-os ^vhi('h('^•(>r way one may tm'n. 
The canal follows the creek within the shadow^s of 
th(> woods, and where one doc^s not care to follow for 
the underbrush, and tangle of thick sapling pines; but 
one turns to the slow-running creek, a dignified 
enough stream at times, when the tide is in ; when it 
is out, it is a mass of black ooze and mud, with here 
and there streaks of light-green grasses, that lend to 
the flats the rare color that only the salt water can 
impart. 

There does not seem to be the romance about this 
stream that one might expect. It is not a highway 
to any jjlace in particular. It leads, in fact, no- 
where; and its life is only such as is lent to it by the 
sea during i)arts of the day. When the tide is at its 
flood it is a str(\'un of Tuiuid silver, and within its 
setting of autumn haze, one understands Corot. I 
never felt any interest in making the discovery of its 
ui)i)er limits, which could not b(> far away; and as 
for there being any secret sj)rings, or life-giving or 
life-sustaining brooks flowing into the marshes that 
dam its farther progn^ss into the interior, it did not 
seem possible there could be any, from th(> knowledge 
I had of the country. As foi' its conse(iuenc(^, it 
sch'UhmI to nic to be of small consideration, unless to 
turn the old salt-mill by the old post-road to Boston 
])efore the days of tlu^ railroads. 

P)Ut whctlicr tins ri\cr nindc b\- the s(>a has any- 
thing of histoi'v or not, does not much matter nowa- 
days, so long as its banks are full twice a day; and 
an occasional salt-laden schooner niav reach the 



Yf7 ROMAXCK or CASCO HAY 



115 



<lilai)i(lat(Ml wharf with its dilapidated old mill; with 
only the great white gulls sailing up and down its 
length to keep it company. Thei'e are plenty of rail 
and teal al)()Ut these marshes all summ(>r long, witli 
plenty of boys no doul)t after them; and later in the 




THE SALT-MILL 



season, flocks of sand-peeps and plover, and occa- 
sionally a few snipe, find a])un(lant feeding ground 
over these wide areas of marsh, going up with the 
tide and down with it, much as a ])it of driftwood 
does, — a dancing sort of a life. 

From this swathing-lxmd of white, the old trail 
stretches out to a little hamlet as old as any in this 
region, which its dwellers call Stroudwater. AMiere it 
got its nam(> I cannot tell, vmless it was named after 
another older hamlet in Mnglish Gloucestershire. 
Spanning the deei)s and shallows of this wide water- 
way comes the dusty liighway, — which less than a 
century ago was the way to all the big towns south; 
and over this old, grav l)ridge went the rattling 



]1G 



yj- lidMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 



coaclu's, l)y tli(> way of York and Portsinoiitli, on 
their journey to l^oston town. Tlirougli lliis single, 
narrow street of tliis most ancient hamlet, came, and 
went, all the travel from this section. It was the 
great artei'v, a hundred years ago, of jirovincial 
travel, and has not yet lost entirely its provincial 
flavor, as one finds who stops to look at the old 
houses b(»side it, that belong to the ante-Kevolution- 
ary })eriod, and are still in a state of gooil jjreserva- 




/ - / 

ODD, PEAKED GABLES 



tion; houses which in thes(> mod(>rn times afford 
ous and interesting s])ecimens of early Ame 
ai'chitect ui'e. 

As one goes through the streets and l)yways 
strange town, there is always a curiosity to 1 
something of its histoi'v; something of its (|uainl 
ancient belongings; esjx'cially if there beliiiils ; 
its thoi'oughfares in the guise of odd peaked g; 



curi- 
ricaii 

of a 

<now 
and 

llollg 
ihles. 



y: ROMAXCK OF CASCO HAY 117 

(lornicr windows with the smallest of small panes of 
glass, whose color is the seal of their antiquity; low 
overhanging eaves, and curiously cut-uj) roofs, with 
huge square chinuieys atoj) of all. 

There is nuich of suggestion oftentimes in what 
one discovers of this sort, which spins the thivad 
upon which may he strung rare hits of information. 
I never meet an old man, withered and wrinkled and 
b(Mit, without a.sking myself hosts of (juestions about 
him: (juestions of the old-fashioiKMl sort, whicli are 
not less fascinating because they tlo not bring im- 
mediate answer. It is the same with these old things 
which an old race has left l)ehind. Stroudwater long 
ago lost its place in the line; and only its nearness 
to the city, which it can serve as a suburb, giA'(>s it 
value. 

The village, the only ancicnit suburb relict of old 
Falmouth, possesses a peculiar charm. With its face 
to the east, half-hidden among the wide-topped elms 
that line its streets, it is a place of the Sleepy Hollow 
sort, with its lack of industry and its drowsy silence; 
save by the old salt mill — which n(>ver goes except 
with the tide. Quaint and ancient, full of restful- 
ness and content, its old importance lingers only in 
traditions; y(4 the new race, who walk its ancient 
ways under the shadows of its ancient elms, and 
sleej) under its ancient roof-trees, and who have 
inhei'ited its anci(>nt acres, are not unmindful of its 
prestige. 

If one had waited beside the old tavei'ii, that on a 
Januarv of a hundred vcars ago stood near the centre 



]1S ¥'■: ROMAXCI' OF CASCO HAY 

oi pi'oNincinl I'aliiiouth, ho would liav(; .seen tlie nide 
pUicanl which iiil'uniied tlie traveller coneerning a 
"stage'' that was about to leave this old hostelry for 
the first time. "Those ladies and gentlemen who 
choose the e\])editious way of stage travelling will 
})lease to lodge their names with Mr. Motley. Tiiee 







^ J, „,t ,V>"-ii V n I'j^ ^ ^j^iX'o at !. 



for one passage the whole distan('(\ twenty shillings." 
It is the fii-st day of departure. With many a tlour- 
ish of the whij) the lumbering Nchiele that ser\'e(l as 
a coach takes an early leave of the tavern folk. W ith 
parting halloo th(> cmnbersome affair cre(>])s up the 
main street of the town, ])ast IJyerson's tavei-n. a 



yi- h'OM.WCK OF CASCO HAY 119 

dilajiidatcd rookery oven then, to rattle down llag- 
gett's hill; thence past the narrow Capisie, and through 
this hamlet, on its way to Portsmouth, rousing the 
])eoi)le as it goes, with the loud twang of the driver's 
horn. Over the marsh, ))ast the salt mill comes the 
old coach, to the al)ru})t I'ise in the highway that 
connnences even at the ('(Igc of the ci'eek, and tliat 
goes u]) the sharj) incline of the hill as straight as 
a taut chalk-line; now as tlieii, to go thi-ough 
the village under the tall elms that line the road- 
side, with l)ranches sweeping down over the gray 
roofs of the century-old dwellings. Tlu^ stage has 
dro])ped its traveller, mayhaj), at "the fork of the 
roads." One road runs i)ast the anci(>nt cemetery, 
— the other keeps on southward to old Ports- 
mouth. 

In this h)rk is the Means house, — an anti(iue hab- 
itation, with sharp angular roof and sides of wood, 
clapboarded, and painted red. It is a charming re- 
minder of the old days. It is not of the Pompeiian 
hue, or any other of the fashionable shades of red, 
but the old-fashioned red of the plain, durable, im- 
pretentious sort that one s<'es on barndoors in the 
country; even now, when the farm economy does not 
allow of so nuich expenditure of ])aint as to co\-cr the 
whole barn, — or that one finds on the I'eai' of the 
farmhouse, while tlu* front is painted a brilliant 
white. 

The gables of this old house are of brick, laid in 
yellow clay, while its window-panes are of th(> di- 
minutive sort. Inside are the high wainscotings and 



120 



YE h'OMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



huge fireplaces, — a treasure house it is of suggestion 
for the antiquarian. 

IS'o special history or romance attaches to this 
house of the Revolutionary period. Its ancientness 
is its certificate of character, while its weather-beaten 
lineaments lend it dignity. Built by Cai)t. James 
Means, at the end of the Revolution, it was fur- 
nished with good old English fui'niture, brought 
from over the sea in some stanch vessel, built may- 




THE MEANS SIDE-BOARD 



hap within a gunshot of the old house, — of all 
which furniture there remain only a mahogany 
sideboard, and a massiv(> chair, which take on 
some added interest from the fact that ui)on 
Lafayette's last visit to America he dined with 
Captain Means; and these old-fashioned reminders of 
an old-fashioned day were used by the distinguished 
man, who thus honored this hero of the entire 
]{ev()lutionary conflict. It is something, that this 
Sleei)y Hollow of Stioudwater remembers the inci- 



)'/■-' h'OM.WCI: OF CASCO HAY 121 

(lent, to repeat it with much pride to such as stop 
for a nionient's chat with the elwellers in its old- 
fashioned hovises. 

Behind th(^ ^h'ans liouse, just across the road 
that follows the ridge to the northward, is another 
mansion, no less distinguished — from the fact that 
it was built a centuiy and a half ago by one Tate, 
who came here, and laid the foundation when Stroud- 
water was a wilderness. It is a gambrel-roof affair, 
with a huge pile of brick chimn(>y in its centre; its 
clapboards are worn with rain and sleet, vmpainted 
and iron-gray in the suidight; deserted and silent, 
one indulges in many a curious reverie as to the 
l^eople whose footste{)s once roused the echoes of its 
now untenanted halls. The interior is barren of its 
old-time furnishings, but throughout are very human 
finger-marks. 

A narrow carved staircase in the hall, and a buffet 
in the corner of the i)arlor, are uni(iue and beautiful; 
graced with its old-fashioned l)lue Dutch ware, the 
latter nmst have l^een more beautiful, ^lade of pine, 
and wrought entirely l)y hand with the rude tools 
of the time, one wonders at the excellent art and the 
elaborateness of the buffet of a (|uaint shell i)att(Tn, 
which well matches the wainscoting, shoulder-high 
about the room. The windows, the same that have 
been h(M'(^ since the house was built, are of good size 
and well gla/(Ml. The archil (>cture of the front door 
is ambitious and noticeable; and there is a flavor of 
old-time aristocracy about the entrance to this an- 
cient mansion, standing; alone, with its silent knocker 



122 



yA- ROMAXCK OF CASCO HAY 



that has no friend to sound its alarm; with its nicni- 
ories of olden days lookinfj; out its blurred panels, as 
out of eyes tired with looking in vain for the old 
forms that darkened them so many years a<:;o, and 
that will never come back. 

I have passed this house in the darkness of the 
night, and it secMued to me as if its dwellers in j)ro- 
vincial days must be thei'e in spirit, if not in body. 
It was an uncanny thought, yet 1 doubt if [ 
should have been much startled had 1 seen the 







THE TATE HOUSE 



flickeiing candle-flames i-eliecting their dim light 
iij)on the windows that looked out upon the high- 
way. I have no dilliculty in i-e-]ieoprmg these old 
houses. I think their iimiates mu.-^t have been like 
other people; less selfish ])ei-ha])s, mor(> (piaint in 
speech and manner, but iiifii ami women, like our- 



y- h'OMAXCK OF CASCO HAY 123 

selves, with likes and dislikes, and with secrets, 
may be. 

The romances of their old homes which one en- 
counters in one place and another along the older 
highways, snugly ensconced within the shelter of 
some tree-shadowed hillside, as if slninking from the 
gaze of i)assers-t)y, their roof-trees grown decrei)it, 
sagging d(>e])er with each succeeding year, as if tired 
of so long holding up their mossy roofs, are buried 
romances; but these places held many a simple life, 
and knew many a grand deed which has never l)een 
written, except ujjon the hearts of those who knew' 
their dwellers, or in the (Jreat l^ook. One feels a 
touch of ])ity at the sight of their windows looking 
outward with a dull vacant stare of half-conscious 
apathy at the world's desertion. At other times 
there seems to be just a hint of sus{)icion lingering 
about them, as if it were hardly the thing to be left 
with only a pair of ragged Lombardy po|)lars to tell 
the story of one's decayed gentility; and again, there 
are traces of the old importance in the flashing j)anes 
of some ancient, two-story, hip-roofed mansion 
hedged about with the gnarled apple-trees that knew 
the old house in its yovmger days, and knew the 
young life going in and out over its century-old 
threshold. These old houses have big, warm hearts 
for those who know them best; and a life of comfort 
for the dwellers ill them. 

This house in {larticular has been a remarkable one 
in its day. Tts sujierior architectur(> was the liadge 
of an old-time aristocracy that j)laced it far above 



124 



yj: ROMAxri-: of casco bay 



tho pl('l)(>i:m dwellings that in after years grew up 
within sight of its one red ehiiuney. Singular to 

record, the hearth 
fires of these ple- 
beian dwellings 
still have a cheery 
welcome for the 
comer, while the 
hearth of this de- 
s(M-ted aristocrat 
is cold and fireless 
and stark, and 
forever forsaken. 
All attempts to 
keep up a])pear- 
ances are laid aside; 
vwn the front- 
yard fence, — for 
1 know there must 
have l)een in those 
prim Puritan days 
something of that 
sort which the 
house drew about 
^^^■/ itself to keep the 
common herd 
away from its pri- 
vacy — is sim])ly indicated l)y the huge elms, a-row, 
that overshadow its front windows, growing in the 
side of the highway that has for so many years 
led )):ist its worn, but footless threshold. The gray 




DOOR OF TATE HOUSE 



¥'■: h'OM.WCK OF CASCO ILW 1 2-J 

shingles on the roof arc thin from years of ox- 
))osure; and curled, and split, and twisted into 
foi-|(^rn shape, laying bare the roof boards; and 
making bad leaks, and flooding ceilings when the 
rains come. I noticed on the door of the front 
entrance, the old brass knocker which had the sem- 
blance of iron, so black was it from want of use or 
scouring. I wondered how long ago it was last used 
to warn the house of a ceremonious callei', or of iho 
coming of some stranger who wIsIkmI for its hospital- 
ity. Once within its narrow doorway, a strange feel- 
ing stole over nw as my footsteps resounded through 
the vacant rooms; while the stairs leading to the 
chamb(>rs creaked with such noisy answer to my 
passage over th(nn, that it seemed as if my intrusion 
upon the long silence were resented by some indig- 
nant s])irit. There w^as a strange smell of dampness, 
and sense of uninhabital)leness about the place, that 
made these im{)ressions all the mor(> vivid; yet it 
gave m(> a certain pleasure to imagine myself not 
alone; but attenchnl and entertained by my unseen 
host, who must, in some way, have had his eye upon 
the i)r()perty all these years, that it should have been 
so well preserved. Therc^ was a big i)ile of straw in 
one of the chambers, and this was the only sign of 
humanity about the i)lace; imless the one or two 
charred sticks of hrewood that I had seen upon the 
broad h(>arth of the kitchen below told of the fire 
once kindled tlun'e. All the rooms below were wains- 
coted to the height of the eye; and of them all, the 
parlor had the greatest charm, with its buffet and 



126 



I'/- A'o.i/.i.vr/-; OF CAsco bay 




THE BUFFET 



old 
])aii 



i; ^vn..lou-s.a,s. an.l an.pl. firoplacv. Mid, 
"'^'•^'"'""''' '"••""<•'■ Thr w.HHhvork l..ul 
"•■'1 ^vl.lt(■ ..ri^rinally. and il,,. doss had no 



liigh 
do- 



y/-- Rn}f.\X('E OF CASCO BAY 127 

purtcd from tlx- paint wholly al this lato day. ^^'lult 
a haiidsonio old room it must have Ix^eii at ono time, 
furnished with oddly-i)atterne(l funiitur(>, no doubt 
brought from old En<iland with nuieh trouble and 
expense! If the furnishings of this room were iu ac- 
cordanee with the simple elegance the earjK'iiters 
gave it, it nuist have b(>en a luxurious aj)artm(>nt, 
with th(> anti(iue brass-dogs to hold the blazing (ire 
on the hearth; a half dozen tallow dips held })ravely 
up in as many brass candlesticks; all polished to 
their brightest ; and the customary nuig of Hi]) warm- 
ing upon the ruddy coals, with a bit of grated cinna- 
mon si)rinkled on the top to give it a foreign flavor. 
The nnmd, brass-mounted, brightly liolished mahog- 
any table, drawn into the centre of th(> room, on 
either side of which W(>re goodman Tate and his 
ecpially ancient danu\ com])lete(l the picture. The 
crackle of the fir(>, the (pieslioning i)urr of the house 
cat, and the sizzle of the hot tc^akettle dei)ending 
from the black crane, mak(^ the nmsic of this fire- 
side, and its company as well; unless some belated 
traveller has come in to warm himself in the blaze; 
or to inquire the way to Broad's tavei-n, which was 
in fact just over the hill, but which, on a dark night 
might as well have been a league away, for th(> mat- 
ter of one's seeing its fire.-lighted windows from the 
highway at this point. Then* was much to think of 
in th(> way of personal history of the builder of this 
great house, great in the days of its building, and 
who became the founder of a notable family. He 
w^as the successor of CoUjuel A\'estbrook as mast-agent 



128 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



of the king, comino; hither i)rior to 1750. His family 
extraction was of the most unexceptionable quality 
and character; being a direct descendant of the De 
La Prey Al)l)ey Tates of Northam])tonshire, England. 
Of his tlu'ee nephews, it may l)e said in passing, 
two were in tm-n, High Sheriffs and Lord Mayors of 
London; and the nihvv was an Am])assador of Henry 
Wll. to the Court of l''i-ance. ( l(H)rg(> Tate was at 
oii(> tim(> a seaman on the first frigate* built by ]\*t(M' 
{\\o (Ireat, who learned the cai-penter's trade at 
Saardam, Holland, and who afterward W(>nt to Lon- 
don to learn the art of ship-building, so he might 
the better direct personally the ei-eclion of his own 
iiaN'v, and the building of the foiliiications about 
St. Petersburg. After that he came to Maine, as 
pui'ehasiiig agent for the Lussian Peter, to buy the 
sjxirs for the new Russian Xavy. 

CJeorgc^ Tate of Stroudwatei', his ser\'ice with PetcM' 
the (ireat completed, set himseU' to the h)unding of 
a family. The I'esult was foui- sons. Thr(M' of these 
Ix'came seafaring men, and became notable in their 
chosen s])her(>s of action. ( )f these, (leorge, the 
thii'd son, distlnguislie(l hiiuseU' above the others. 
H(> entered the Pussian naval servic(> in 1770, ob- 
taiTiing the a|)pointment as lieutenant under Cath- 
ei'ine 11. His I'jiglish pluck stood him in good stead, 
foi' his advance was rapid; and he particulai'ly dis- 
tinguished himself in the wars with the Tui'ks. 

In 1700 th(> Russians laid siege to Ismail fortress 
at the mouth of the Danube. In the final storming 
of the fort by \\hicli llic place \\as captured with an 



I'A' ROMANCE OF CASVO HAY 129 

immense booty, young Tate was wounded. The fa- 
mous Suwarrow was in command, and Tate was pro- 
moted, receiving from the Empress Catherine a 
medah He was also made an Admiral, and as a 
further evidence of her royal favor, she presented 
him with her miniature set with diamonds. Subse- 
cjuently, the l^mperor Alexander created him First 
Admiral, and made him a member of the Russian 
senate. He was the recipient of several distinguished 
orders from the sovereigns to whom he rendered ser- 
vice at one time or another. He afterwards became 
a Rear-Admiral, and for all liis foreign service, did not 
forget his friends at home, among whom were to be 
reckoned the Deerings, and Kents. He died in 1821, 
having never married, and as the " Gentleman's Maga- 
zine," Lontlon, said, " fulle of years and honors." 
Robert, the fourth son, was the grandfather of the 
wife of Joseph A\'tdker, a distinguished and beloved 
citizen of Portland in his lifetime. 

The elder Tates were of a hardy and resolute 
character, energetic and thrifty; and their cannn-s 
were of the sti'enuous sort that went to the building 
up of that kind of manhood which has made New 
England famous; and to-day, the desccMidants of the 
king's mast-agent may be found living within a 
ston(»'s throw of the old mansion built nearly one 
hundred and sixty years ago. The dale of its erec- 
tion is set around 1755, and its builder died at k'al- 
moutli in 1704, and is remembercMl as one of the 
founders of the first Ei)isco])al Church in Portland, 
and who served as one of its first wardens. 



130 



)'/••• ROMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 



); 



I i!na<i;iii(> a iri'cat many lirm<!;s ini<iht have liap- 
{x'IUmI to a ])i()ii('('r in these parts out of the conimoii, 
of adventure and ])ei'ilous (>i)iso(le; and anionj^ them 
comes to mind one that became a trajjed}- of the most 
unfoi't unale sort. The story was rehite(l to me on 
the s})()t, and to ma]<e more sui'e of the I'eahty 1 S2;o 
to the door that looks out \\\nn\ the tangle of a long 
disused garden where stood in the days of yore the 

family storehouse. 
Hei'e is a veritable 
tangle of liriai's, or 
should be according to 
the etei'iial fitness of 
things, with so nuieh 
of neglect and abandon- 
ment. A small frame 
structure is still stand- 
ing, which was shown 
to me by my cicerone, as the old stoi'ehouse; and 
as a place which had come to be avoided after 
nightfall by reason of the grewsome tale which hung 
therel)y; and which, old and weath(M--worn as it is, 
has a j)eculiar fascination h)r me. The conjuring 
process begins, and the picture is linmed: and the 
only regret I Ikinc in mind is. that the thief did not 
get what was intended for him, — an unclu-ist ian 
feeling, imdoilbtedly. but honest enough, withal. 

It is cold and damp lhes(> lirst days of ^hiy. and T 
go to the straw-pile in the long-ago forsaken chamber. 
How the straw happened to be ther(> I do not know; 
liowever, it is damp enough and mouldy enough to 




^r 



yA- ROMANCE OF CASCO HAY \-j\ 

discourage anyone in search of fuel. The old bel- 
lows that once huufj; to the chiinney-janih is gone; 
l)ut 1 manage to get the charred wood in the kitchen 
fireplace into a feeble blaze h»r company's sake; but 
only a smok(> snmdge answers my diligent effort; a 
smoke which hangs about the mouth of the dusky 
flue, as if it were uncertain whether to go up or not. 
A\'hether it does the one thing or the other, I hardly 
know, so deeply am I involved in one vagary and 
another. 

In this, as in all patrician households of the time, 
there were huge fireplaces, and all else was kei)t up 
on the same generous scale. Huge hamj^ers of gro- 
ceries wcn-e brought from over the ocean, that were 
on extra occasions to be drawn upon and enjoyed; 
and the Tates were, like most of their neighbors, 
abundantly provided with luxuries, and those which 
were brought, or sent by the admiral, wc^re treasured 
in high d(>gree; and were said to have \)evn deposited 
in this selfsame outhouse along with the commoner 
stores for the family table. This might have been a 
safer depository in those days than now, when its 
sagging door, warped and s])lit by the weather, hangs 
by a single old hand-WTOUght hinge to its hewn pine 
lintel, leaving the floorless, Ixirren interior to be in- 
vad(>d by every vagrant wind. 

rnfortunately for the goodman's peace of mind 
and the good wife's comfort, this i)recious store of 
luxuri(^s was being unaccountably depleted. 

Was ther(> a thief? 

One U)ss aft(>r another occurs, mitil one of the 



132 r^ ROMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

l)()ys, takin*:; the law inlo his own hands, set a spring- 
gun at the storehouse door, hoi)ing tliere))y to deter 
the culprit from further cherishing sinister designs 
upon these exjH'nsive d(>licacies. Thes(» were not over- 
honest times, to l)e sure, hul in this pioneer settle- 
ment of Stroudwater, all wer(> counted luniest, for 
here was a reputable comnumity. None was more 
so. 

But William Tate counted wrongly on his victim. 

The next morning gcKxlwife Tate sent l)lack l-ietty 
to the stol'ehouse for some needed supplies; hut the 
ser\'ant, fearful of the gun, i-elurned wilhout having 
j)ei-f()rmed her errand; whei-eui)on, the goodwife took 
it upon herself to get what she desired; and though 
conscious of the danger, and doubtless exercising the 
utmost care, was killed by the deadly device. 

It is a barren thi'ead upon which to hang so tragic 
a legend; but, as is freciueiitly the case in these later 
times, the accident dilated into a hideous crime; and 
the connnunity did not hesitate to accuse young 
Tate of ha\"ing had cxW designs u))on his motluM', 
looking upon the allegeil losses as a myth, a sjMH'ious 
ruse to co\-ei- Up a mat I'ieidal int(>nt. 

The old man who had the key lo the front door, 
and who kindly unlocked it for me, knew but little 
more than the sombi'c outline T have here repeated. 
lie did not know where the young man Tat(> was 
a)iprehende(l, only that the ancient Court records 
show the finding of an indictment upon which a sub- 
seiiuent ai'rest was made, and a trial was had befon? 
good men and true of the Pi'o\-ince; and that a ver- 



yii RUMAXCK OF CASCO JiAY lob 

diet of "Guilty," was declared, and a sentence of 
d(\ith was imposed. As if that were not enough, 
after all. 

To my own mind, the apprehension should have 
been here in this old kitchen, in the small hours of 
the night, when its silences lent a sharper edge to 
nnnorse; or when the storm beset tlu> old I'oof-tree 
with imperious accusation: and tlie howling winds 
beat against the windows; or rattled up the side of 
the house, along the roof and down the chinmey, 
driving the dense smoke into the low-ceiled room, to 
the great discomfort of its tenant, until his eyes wei)t 
tears of smarting annoyance; while great floods of 
wet came down the throat of the hugc^ chimney to 
put out the last vestige of fire in the wide firei)lace. 

It is reasonable to believe that young Tate suffered 
sufficiently, — he would have been doubly inhuman 
had he not done so; but to my mind, he should have 
been afraid of the dark. 

He should have i)ile(l the fire higher with fuel. Its 
flame should have been made to have leai)t up the 
chinmey-throat with a louder and more angry roar- 
ing. The winds should have risen higher, and the 
rain should have fallen in floods. He should have 
gotten (juickly into the way of s(M'ing things, in the 
dancing shadows on th(> walls, that were uncanny 
and aw(>some; but thc^-e is no evidence of thes(> facts. 
So far as he was concerniMl, the offense was of a 
purely technical character; but the law was like that 
of the Uedos and Persians, and a verdict for the Crown 
was a foregone conclusion. Luckily ioi him, the 



134 



y h'OMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



king was the Court of Last Resort, and the royal 
pardon was not difficult to obtain. In time it had 
been brought across the seas; and AVilliani Tate, 
absolvetl, was restored to his estates and his char- 
acter, and the companionship and respect of his fel- 



\ 



m^ 









[11 J. 



■ I "fr ^s-^jac^- 



m^ 







THE TATE HOMESTEAD 



lows; for William was a merchant who had his edu- 
cation in Mngland, and well-known for his honesty 
and kindheartedn(>ss; and if one desires to see one 
of his landmarks, one has only to glance at the old 
store where Mr. Andrew TIawes still carries on the 
trade begun by Willinin 'I'ate and continued by 
Robert Tate, his son, the father of tlu^ Tates now 
living at Stroudwater. (leorge also built sliips here. 
But this all happcMied befon^ the days of sleuth 
newsi)aper reporters, staring headlines and ])rivate 
detectives, — othei'wise, what might one not have 
looked for, all for the sake of a breakfast-table storv. 



yj' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



135 



But the sun is getting down in the sky, and the 
shadows are creeping over the kitchen-floor and up 
the side of the firephice. I reahze that I have been 
here a great while; and a shiver creeps over nie. A 
moment more, and I have i)assed through the ancient 
parlor into the hall, laying my hand for a moment 
upon the carved Ijalustrade, and stepping from the 




worn doorstep out into the wholesome air, full of 
salt smell from the marshes witli the tide well out, 
and just a hit a-tremhle with the whir of the big 
stones of the old salt-mill at the bridge. I look back 
at the house, and my cicei'one has closed the door; 
the knocker jars a trifle as it is shut. T look at the 
old rookery, of once grand ti'a(nt ions, with the wish 
that I might have known its builder pei-sonaUy; but 
its dusty window-])anes have no ray of intelligence; 
and from the flat doorstone to the top cf the ci'um- 



13G 



Yf: Rn}f\XCE OF CASCO BAY 



bling c'liiinncy, tho jiray nuMiiorial of tlu^old colonial 
(lays is silent and inscrutable. Tlu>r(> is a strange 
|)ersistence about it, for I tiu'n a half a dozen times 
to tak(^ a j)arting look of a })lace 1 have not seen 
from that day to (his. If there had been anything 
in the old house to hav(> runnnaged a bit, it might 
have seemed more human. There was nothing 
bill the hazy mem()ri(\-; of those whose disembodied 
spirits seem still to linger here; and this must ac- 
count for the h'eling that dogged my footsteps down 
the road until the thick elms had built a barrier to 
hide all but its ruddy chimney, which seemed to 
catch a cheerful tinge from the deep glow of the 
setting sun. 



^:<ij|^ 




HARROW HOUSE 





HARROW HOUSE 

ARROW HOUSE was the nanio 
of the okl-time manor that 
c(n'ered many of the Stroiul- 
water acres in the days when 
Harmon of York, Moulton 
of Wells, and the Jesuit, 
Rasle, with his " Frenchified 
Indians," were the chief 
actors on the local stage. 
It was the old manse of Col. Thomas M. West- 
brook, who, in his latter \\(v, made it his home when 
he was not about the king's affairs, ))randing the 
giants of the woods with the " broad arrow," or 
hunting "redskins" in the wilds of Norridgewock. 
It was here he died; and the ancient manor by the 
edge of Fore River did not long survive its master. 

Down the highway, a little back from this broad, 
glimmering ti(le-riv(>r over which I have come, and 
over the hill from the house I hav(> described, is a 
rollicking stream of perennial spring water, that 
comes from somewhere out in the (l(>pths of West- 
brook's thick pine woods, to find its way blocked by 
a narrow, but lofty, dam across the deej), dark flume 

139 



140 



1'/^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



that makes the bed of the stream, — a dam full of 
seams and crevices, through which a score of tiny 
streams find their way, to fall among the black rocks 
far below with graceful poise and noisy rhylhni and 
spatter of drops that catch from sun and sky swift 
reflections of glorious color. It is a deep chamiel 
that one looks down into fi'om the sagging rail of 
the dilai)idated bridge; a channel that has been 







K 



# 




THE GRIST MILL 



made, in the years gone by, by these wat(>rs i-ushing 
without let or hindi-ancc through this schistose k'dg(^, 
that shows the dip of its sti-atilicd foi-mation the 
whole of the way back, fiom the wet sand^ (»f the 
creek, with its acres of drooi)ing, marsh grass, to this 
crest of the upland, where it furnishes the founda- 
tion to the old corn mill. To this old mill the country 



yi: h'OMAXCJ'J OF CASCO HAY 141 

folk come even now with tlicir corn and wheat p'^'^t, 
paying the miller his toll of a tenth for the grinding. 
One may see the same ancient, wide-mouthed hop- 
pers, into which the bags of grain arc cnn)ticd; ov, 
if one likes the feeling of the meal as it comes hot 
from the great ])nrr-stoncs, whose whirring sets th(; 
mill-timbers a-tremblc, he may catch it as it dro])s 
fi'om th(^ tiny tin cvi|)s on their endless ])elt of leather, 
emptying their bui'dens into the meal box, whence 
it is filled into the wide-o))en ])ags with a battered 
tin scoop of a jtattern as ancient as the mill itself. 
Here are methods, and appliances, as ciuaint and old- 
fashioned as were our ancestors when these lands 
were first ])ut to raising corn and wheat; and a 
strange bit of the old way of doing things it is, to 
be found within siglit of the roofs and spires of a 
bustling city. 

Northward from the highway across Fore Rivei' 
is another old mill of great antitjuity, as things go 
hereabout. It is i)erched high, uj) the side of the 
narrow gorge among the gray birches; the only thing 
left of its stout dam, and the wharf that kept it com- 
pany, but little of which latter now I'emains. Th(> 
tide at its flood creeps up to lap the wobbly-looking 
piles, as it has every day h)r a century and a luilf ; 
and the west wind ))lows the white cai)s Ix-yond, to 
meet tlie trickling silver of the Capisic as it filters 
through the sli])])ery rocks that run, evei' nai'rowing 
up, and into the gray shadows of the i'a\'ine that 
shows beyond, the low roof of a weatlier-staine(l 
farmhouse of the old r(''jiime. This is in such thor- 



142 Y^ HOMAXcr: or casco bay 

outrli k('('i)in<i with the old mill of the Capisic, there 
i.s such u t'onsonauce of ancieiitness, that one takes 
a swift journey to dreanilantl, to come back as empty- 
handed as one W(>nt. 

This old mill is doubtless a close follower of the 
grist mill built by one Ingersoll along with the sec- 
ond settlement of Stogunnnor. Ingersoll's mill was 
destroy(Ml in the first Indian war, and there is every 
reason to believe that this structure was the next to 
serve the hardy settler with his salt and meal. It 
nuist have been a famous ])lace in the old days, when 
a ride on horseback to mill, and back, over the nai'row' 
trails with the "blazed"' trees for guideboards was 
the whole of a day's journ(>y. A\'hat stories its old 
l)eams and walls might tell had they the tongues of 
men — stories of pei'ilous times and episodes! For 
a hundred and forty yeai's it has stood, the relic 
of ])usier days, deserted by man and all else — 
unless the swallows build under its eaves — with the 
flavor of scraps of horn to savor its bi'eath; for here 
were mamifactured combs less than a centui'v ago. 
A\'hen that industi'y was abandoned, the i)lace was 
deserted altogether. It is a I'are study for the 
sketcher. Tlie old, moss-grown roof is as stanch as 
v\('\\ with its I'oof-tree of pumpkin-])ine upheld by 
huge and sturdy rafters, though the old. shrunk 
window-sashes rattle in the wind, and the winter 
snows find their way through the ci'e\iced walls and 
over the silent flooring. 'i"he sea-green window-panes 
light up with the same i"e(| blaze of sunset as of old, 
a waiin fellowshij) in the gray setting of a W(>ather- 



FA' ROM AXLE OF CASCO BAY l4o 

beaten, weather-stained decrepitude^ — for this old 
hiiildin<i; is just that; with a huge shaft of its overshot 
wheel 1)u11(mI from its pit, and rotting; at its very 
threshold; while the leaky old flume is as completely 
absent as if it had never existed. The clumsy l)urr- 
stones are gone, and th(>ir song is the song of silence. 
To look one way from this old bridge, is to see this 
arm of the sea filled to its brim of willow-fringed 
marsh by the inflowing tide; its farther margin fretted 
by low black wharves, that set hardly al)ove high- 
water mark; ^\^th their black warehouses, above the 
roofs of which are the thick-set spars of the vessels, 
and rising above them all, the smoky chinmeys and 
glistening roofs of the seajjoi't town. To turn one's 
back upon this picture of sea, and shi])s, and houses, 
is to see the old post-road winding up the hill to 
Broad's tavern, that lies just beyond its farther slope. 
It is an old, worn country road, with grass growing 
close down to the deep ruts made by the teams that 
are constantly going and coming through the day; 
with deep ditches outside these grassy margins; with 
rills of melted snow water trickling down their nmddy 
lianks, and rambling walls of cobble stone surmount- 
ing all; over which l(>an the outposts of the strag- 
gling orchards on either side, — all leading up, up 
to the hilltoji, till they m(>et the l)luest of blue sky. 
Just above this old grist-mill is the gnH'n vup of the 
mill-pond, with its i)lacid sheet of water just a bit 
ruffled by tlu> wind that is blowing up from the south 
on this spring day; for I have chosen what the coun- 
trymen ilesignate as ''mud time" in the calendar of 



144 



yi: h'OM.WCK OF (ASCO BAY 



the yoar as the day for my outiiifj;. Beyond this 
foreground lay a middle ground of meadow land, 
with its brook drowsy with the slow pace the slug- 
gish mill-i)()nd compels it to take. Its pathway, with 
all the motlesty one is lik(4y to hnd in nature, courts 
the leafless tangles of the black alders, or of the 
yellow-green catkins that flaunt their new-born color, 
not only in this bit of meadow, Init in every other 
wet place as well. Smooth sloi)ing farm-lands, that 







THE MEADOW 



reach away in gentle undulations to the woods, hem 
the nuvadow in; and just back of the mill, peeping 
over the crest of the higher lands, is the red chimney 
of a farmhouse, with its l)lue ribbon of smoke lazily 
ciuTmg ui)ward into the tojjs of the elms that reach 
out widely above it. The whole has a decidedly 
English aspect. It is one of Bii-ket booster's bits of 
landscaj)e; a ([uiet com])osition enough, and made 
up of warm tones, for all ther(> are ])atches of snow 
in the edges of the woods and hints of lingering frost 
in the roads. Here it is: a bit of meadow, a glint of 
running water, with a boy and his alder fishjiole 
beside it, — but it is too early to catch ti'out ; a girl 
with rudd\' cheeks and wind-blown hair to keej) him 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



145 



synipatliizing company; a house-roof and a glimpse 
of chimney through the thick tops of the willow 
hedges; a stately elm, and over all, a patch of blue 
sky. Had it come from Birket Foster's brush, it 
Avould hav(^ seemed hardly less real than Nature's 
own sketching. It is a tlelightful sketch for one to 

''§1! 







A VISION OF HARROW HOUSE 



carry in his mental portfolio; for to look at it, is to 
hear the splash and spatter of this river in miniature, 
and feel the spring winds drinking up the dampness 
in the roads and fields, l)lowing up the runs and over 
the ujjlands with a marvellous quality of vigor and 
freshness. 

There is more room in these parts, now, than when 
the Vniilder of Harrow House came here something 
less than two hundi-ed y(>ars ago. The woods are 
not so thick, and the farming lands ai'e in sight every- 



146 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



whore. There are wood-lots, but no forests; the field 
and pasture acreage exceeds that of the woodlands 
by a large percentage. There is more breathing 
space; and from the rise in the highway toward the 
Broad Tavern the outlook is a far-nniching one. The 
fields slope to the southward with a gentle inclina- 
tion, ending in a slender cape of thick pine growth 




THE SITE OF HARROW HOUSE 

that reaches out its darkly-f()ling(Ml finger into the 
bright waters of tlir ii\cr basin. It is evident that 
these ))ark-like areas about (he shores of this inlimd 
sea, with its nearness to the larger sea b(\vond the 
land of Pur I'oodMck, le(l the people who came from 
England into this ])Mrt of the ri-ovince of Maine, witii 



I'A- ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



147 



their English-bred incHnation toward beautiful es- 
tates, to select these lands in the vicinage of Stroud- 
water most frequently as mansion sitc^s, — as one 
may discover by a visit to this region. 

Here was the grand residence of Colonel West- 
brook, which bore the aristocratic, and English-like 
title of Harrow House. Harrow House has not been 
in existence since the memory of the 
oldest inhabitant; but down on this 
point of land by the river, overshadowed 
by a dense growth of pines, dark and 
silent, is still pointed out to the curious 
wayfarer tlu> ruined walls of its old 
cellar, now overgrown with dwarf birch 
trees, and choked with dead vines of 
briars. It must have been a noble 
place when its distinguished dweller of 
the earlier colonial days kept open house 
here, and entertained with princely hos- 
pitality, as befitted a man in his station. 

It was while living here that West- 
brook commanded the Penobscot ex- 
pedition, which brought home among 
its numerous trophies the papers of the 
Jesuit Rasle, upon the destruction of Norridgewoek. 

This exploit brought him, no doubt, the further 
distinction of becoming chief-in-command of the 
frontier forces. He was at one time His ]\Iajesty's 
mast-agent; and I have heard old men who knew 
these woods well in more primitive days, say they had 
seen, long after the Revolution, the king's broad 




148 y^' liOMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 




KING S ARROW 



arrow upon not a 
few of the towering 
nionarchs of the 
forests hereabout, 
nndouhtedly })ut 
there by West- 
brook's hand 
There were mast 
yards upon the 
shore that looked 
'^f'^^^ eastward upon this 
bit of ocean, and it 
would seem reason- 
able that more 
than one gootl ship 
W;t^ came into the 
shelter of these 
waters to step a 
new mast, or to 
re])lace her lost or 
disabled spars. 
How much it must 
have differed in 
those far-off days, 
with its rude activ- 
ities, from what it 
K is to-day, \\'\{\\ its 
drowsy woodland 
silences and de- 
serted shores ! 
Anion"; the 



yr: ROMASCE OF CASCO UAY 149 

gri('\'aii(H's, I'cal or iinatiincd, thai were ent(n'tained 
by the colonists a))out the time the term " ]k)stoii 
Rebel" began to be used, was the ))iittinj»; of the 
"l)road arrow"' of the kin<2; iijjon the best and tallest 
trees in the forest. A\'esti)ro<)k, for all I know, may 
have had his assistants in this work of labelling these 
pine monarehs of the king's choice; but 1 have 
no hint of such a fact historically, — and T imagine 
he must have been too busy in the woods most of 
the time, had this been the case, to go Indian hunt- 
ing among the wilds of Norridgewock, if the seal of 
the royal injunction were to l)e found ui)on every 
shajjely {)ine or sj^ruce. But the complaint nuist 
have been in some sort magnified by the owners of 
these immense forests, that in those days might be 
called limitless, — days when the rarest of pumpkin 
pine was not only used for spars and masts, and in 
the construction of houses whose lightest roof tim- 
bers wen^ not less than a foot S(iuare; and when 
nothing that l)etrayed the slightest sign of a knot or 
stain of |)itch was eligible for the inside finish, or even 
the outside dress of the house, and when things were 
made to last "a hundred years to a day;" not only 
this, but when the stateliest trees were wantonly felled 
for firewood, or to make the clearings about the set- 
tlement a V)it more amj)le; or to add to the acres about 
the log-house, — trees — the massive trunks of which, 
priceless in these days of threatentMl scarcity and 
drought among the ])ine woods, were left ])i()ne and 
helpless along the field fences, or strewn about the 
back-lots that are white with rye ever}' August ; or in 



150 r^ HOMAXCi: OF CASCO HAY 

the woods ;mion<i; tlic uiKlci'binish ; to be the source 
of much cufious (|Ucstiouiii<j; on the i):u1 of strnnjicrs 
to tlu' t()j)o<!;nii)liy of the home acres, \vho discover 
for tlie first time these ihiinh witnesses of the van- 
(hdism of the ancestor of a haU-dozen <!;enerations 
ajio. 

1 have seen in my wanderin<;\s in the newei', second- 
growth woodlands of the northern ])art of the comi- 
try, more than one sttitely tree of yellow birch upheld 
by its trijxxl of stout, ])ur))le-stained roots reaching 
down on either side of a ])rostrate forest giant that 
was once a stalwart ]>iiie, with a rare kindly touch 
and clinging grace. The saj) of this fallen ti'ee has 
been transnuited ])y the moistvu'e of the rains, and 
snows, and the woodland shadows, into a rime of 
l)rownisli-red decayed matter, as soft to the touch as 
])hish; which imi)ai"ts a dehghtful sense of coolness, 
on a hot midsunnner day, when it crumbles in one's 
liand to the semblance of line Hour, tingeil with deej) 
sienna color. The log itself, j)ai'tly covered with th(> 
leaves that have so many autunms di'ifted down 
from the ti'ee-tojis, and spotted with wood-moss, and 
lichen, and all the strange forms of polypori that. 
thrive in damp i)laces, is hardly to be distinguished 
from the yielding scurf in which it lies half buried; 
and which, stri))))ed of its imunmy-like wrai)ping of 
rotten wood — for this is all it is — reveals the big 
stout heart of an ancient pine, whose color is akin to 
tlie fine warm tint of a salmon steak cut from one ot 
Penobscot's rarest catch. T have in mind a strij) of 
woodland — more familiar in m\' bo\liood th.an now 



yt-: ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



151 



— that overlooked a bit of meadow; hmg and nar- 
row it was; and there were scores of these huge pine 
trees to be found lying in every direction across the 
floors of the woods, many of them not less than 
three to four feet in diameter. They would scale 
thousands of feet; and saw into l)oar(ls of extra di- 
iiK^nsions, cut up at the saw-mill, if it were not easier 
and cheaper to "log" 
the sai)ling growth 
that stands so thick- 
ly about, than to dig 
these half-buried, 
century-old 




mon- 
sters from their rest- 
ing-places. T know 
for a fact, that these 
w o o d s were once 
mowing lands. No 
one is alive to-day who has mow(Ml about these 
innnense tree trunks that are now so deeply hidden 
within the shadows of a new forest; but these acres 
are all named, as one may see by reading the titles 
to them. 

Men were as jealous for their domain, and as ])ica- 
yunish in many respects, tluMi, as they arc now, — 
as if there were not pine trees in sufhcient number 
on these new shores to sui)ply all the needs that they 
might know during their brief stay upon them; or 
the needs of their posterity who might succeed to 
their cknirings. 

I have no doubt, had Westbrook be(>n less fond of 



152 Y'' ROMAXCI-: OF CASCO HAY 

iis"m<2; tli(> royal prcrofrativc of the broad ari'ow within 
his litnilcd |)i'()\iiic(', his iici<i;hh()i's would have Ix'cn 
no less prodiijal, lcllini>; and burning I heir acres for 
wider fields, l^ut it is human nature to resent en- 
eroachiiicnt upon pri\-ale rights, even if it is sanc- 
tioned by the " dixiuc right of kings." 

I cliinb the low wall between llu^ held and the 
highway, and go down the slo])e. through the limp 
stubble, .sodden and drenched with the melted snows, 
to this old cellar, closely hedged about with scrub 
pines and wild cherry buslu^s: with gray birclu^s with 
their to))s bent to the ground where the winter has 
left them; with scrawny sumac, its l)ark covei'ed 
with a soft yellow naj); with all the tangle of bush 
and briar that hold in all old pastures the approaches 
to the woods, — as if lher(> could vxrr have been a 
fine old English liouse here in this wild(M-ness. But 
this is the site of Harrow House, if all tales are true, 
— and it is pleasant to think they are. 

The reader will pai'don vwr if I digress from all 
that remains of Harrow House, to sj)eak of two, very 
old hou.ses in the immediate vicinity, undoubtedly 
built full one huiKh'ed ;ii)d forty years ago, Sti'oud- 
water is rich in these mementos of the old days. 
The old Broad Tavern just over the cr(>s( of the hill 
is in the heyday of a res])ectable yet thrifty old age. 
Iliis side of the hill is the Fickett House, once the 
old Stroudwater garrison. One can s(>e the timbers 
of the once blockhouse by an iiisj)ection of the inte- 
rior: but the structure has been so modernizcMl, that 
in its neatly white painted exterior and fresh green 



y/-- /,'rM/.i.\Y7<; of casco bay 



153 



blinds, the wayfarer would littlo droam tliat it had 
ever been a stroiij^hold a<2;aiiist Indian attack. Yet 
on this identical spot the settlers hereabout in the 
troublous times that followed the l^'rench occupation, 
built their heavily-tinilxM'ed blockhouse and stock- 
ade. Night after night the hardy frontiersman 
brought his family hither as the gi-ay shatlows 




^I'^'-' 
\^^: 


v^. ^r^ 


yf 




FICKETT 


HOUSE 



hinted the going down of the sim, the intangil)le sug- 
gestions of color, in misty threads and grotes(iue 
shapes in the woodland, thrilling the alert imagina- 
tion, tainted with su])erstition, oftentimes with a 
sudden dnvul. Distance did not count in those early 
times; and on horse!)a('k, or afoot, the backwoods- 
man, with wife and children, sought shelter and the 
good cheer of companionship in peril; to sleep in se- 



154 



I'A- ROMAXCI-: OF CASCO BAY 



ciirity until the next dawn; lisinji with the sun to 
return lioincwanl hy the '' sijottod" trees; thankful 
for their own safety, yet ahvays exi)(^eting to see, 
instead of the humble log-cabin amid the tasselled 
maize, a heap of smouldering ashes. Jiaek they went 
then to their clearings, to take up the labor of the 
pr(>vious day. 

Among the oldest houses at Stroudwater is the 




/i 



PATRICK HOUSE 



little, one-story Patrick IIous(\ It may well be called 
one of th(! oldest in Maine. Its coat of durable, yel- 
low i)aint gives it a dressy, youthful look, yet it is 
very old. Patrick built his house, and then went 
to England after the woman who was to be his wife. 
She came over in the Pink and l)ol])hin, a schooner 
built almost within a stone's throw of the old liouse 
at the mouth of Little Stroudwater liiver. It has 



1'/^' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



155 



boon said tliai horo was a busy shipyard, where there 
had been seen no less than fourteen vessels on their 
ways at one time. Patrick and his wife s(>t up liouse- 
keeping in this yellow house, that is older than the 
Tate House. 

The story is told of the days of the Indian out- 
break — how Mrs. Patrick came 
in from her milking at sundown, 
bringing in each hand a pail of 
foaming milk, to set them on the 
old i)ine table, after which she 
started upon another errand; 
but b(»fore she had left the low 
kitchen, a stealthy footstep told 
her she was not alone. She 
turned backward, to see the 
dusky shadows of two Sunapes 
cross the threshold; and lief ore 
she could speak, each in silence 
had raised a pail of milk to his 
lips and was drinking his fill. 
She watched them, speechless in 
her terror, and defenceless in her 
loneliness, expecting momently 
to be killed by the savages. 

"Ugh!" 

It was the Sunape salutation and thanks in one. 
Silently they passed out of the house, to disappear in 
the gloom of the woods. 

I have come to a considera])le (le]iression or hol- 
low in the ground, with a slightly elevated rim about 




CRUCIFIX FOUND AT 
NORRIDGEWOCK 



1-jG ) /- h'OMAMI-: OF CASCO BAY 

it. tluil romiiuls oik^ of a (l(>s(M-t(Ml cirrus ring; only 
this old ('(>ll;ir is somewhat ohloiig in shajx", if indeed 
it has any shajx' at all. — and. standing l)esid(> it in 
the bright sunshine, a mere suggestion of the old 
ruin i»(4'ort> me, I eould l)ut realize how nuich a crea- 
ture oi cii-cumstance, how nuich the s})ort of natiu'e, 
man is. 

Here was once a spacious ])ark; with })erhaps a 
stately country house adorning it; with facade, por- 
tico, and ])illar ]>eeping out h(>tween its stately elms, 
to get a vi(>w of the ri\"er and (»f its master as he came 
sailing in with wind and tide. — the white sails of 
his slo(»p not a whit whitei- than the mansion itself. 
Xo doubt \\(-slbi'ook sailed uj) this ri^■er ni;niy a 
time in thi> night: and 1 can imagine tlu^ lantcM'U 
signalling, to and fro. as he made the landing-wharf 
somewhere about the lower (Mid of tlu^ point, — as 
thei-e was possibly de(>per water for {\\o ships there- 
abouts. This may have been a rto})ia once; but it 
is now, liardly better than a tangle of dwarf growth, 
without a singl(> hiiu of humanity about the j)lace, 
(>\cept an isolat(Ml appK^-tree, scraggy, unshorn, and 
for that matt(M' unknown, if on(> is to judge by the 
(|uantities of frozen ajtples among the leaves that 
drifteil over them as they dropped one by on(> last 
fall. 

Nature has full sway here, for the specn-h of the 
wind is all thes(> bush(>s hear from one day to another, 
unless it be the drij)))ing of tlu> rain on wet days. 
Then^ is a nMu.arkably jiersistent (juality about this 
universal law which men call Nature, for the want of 



r-fc' ROM A ME OF CASCO HAY l-jj 

a hf'ttor naiiK", wliosc silent activilics arc most to l)e 
guarded af!;aiiist. Plough the garden and plant your 
seed, and the weeds an; staring you in the face with 
a singular inipertur})a})ility, as they eat and drink 
the sap and substance you have provided for others. 
Leave your snio(jtli pasture, or your mowing-lands to 
the care of the; wind and rain, and a decade will raise 
you a crop of stunted ))ines instead of herdsgrass: or 
cover them with ))atches of })luel terry hushes; jmd a 
hedge of brambles will h;ive jiidden the fences about 
them, ^h'n may slec]), but the sj)irit of life, the 
s])irit of renewal goes on with its eternal work, renew- 
ing and rel)uilding, or destroying and tearing down, 
growing or decaying. Nature, robust, luxuriant with 
vegetation, tireless, constant, in season and out of 
season, dominates everything and everywhere; com- 
prising everything, — time, matter, space, and the 
elemental forces: all are hers, in all the variety of 
the Infinite conception. Here it is, with all these 
things within her control, that Nature has the advan- 
tage over men. She is never compelled to resort to 
weak and ai)i)ar(Mit sul)terfuges, or etjuivocations to 
crown her work with success. Her story is the story 
of to-day, — the story of outdoor realism, the ])roof- 
sheets of which are spread constantly before every- 
l)0(ly who has eyes and ears. Nature tells things as 
they an\ 

Therein lies her superiority over men, who are cow- 
ards; or who are the mifortunate victims of a de- 
fective eyesight: and who try to soften Nature's un- 
yielding lines of rugged makeu}), as if they could tell 



158 



yi'- h'OMAXCK OF (ASCO BAY 



lior stoiy best. Can you write a water-ripple in a 
sinjile ink-stained lin(> — or tiie sound of a (lr()p])ing 
stone as it sti'ikes its placid surface? Can you trans- 
late the dcafenint!; crack, the tei-rible jarrinj;- of \\\v 
thunder, or describe the ])ath- 



/ 



way of the li<i;htning to the 
earth? Is there anion"; men 



J! /W Q> I t^^'X the interi)reter of that beautv 
111 ifil ^' ^4 1 !'"il 11 tbat makes a dav in June sr 

^y'^^s-— _--,rfS^^' // Nature. These thinjis make 



WESTBROOK TRENCHER 



so 
1-ai'e? This is the realism of 
Nature. These thin<i;s make 
the i)oet, for all great truths 
arc ])()ems or tragedies, — 
and therein lies Nature's love- 
liness, and her appealing to men. One cannot tell a 
true story without a mor(\ or less, distinct touch of 
realism entering into the story and making a part of 
it. I tell these things as 1 
see them hei-e. only with the 
regret that my i-eadei" cannot /^ /f/ 
•see through the lens that ha^ s-- . 

revealed them to me; lor the \ |(Ll /\ .. % 'M.J 
l)lace, chai-ming as its wild- V \X ^ ' / V? 

wood sui'roundings make it. 
is so ])o\-erty-stricken in its 
suggestion of luuiiaii things, 
and of huni;m .■!(•( |uaintance, 

that 1 might think myself burie<l miiid the gray 
tops of these leafless trees: another West brook plan- 
ning another mansion beside these sijarkling waters; 
so firmly has this olden tale of Harrow House taken 



y^-: ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



15!) 



hold upon my symiKilliy; so real has scciikmI tlu; 
Icjrciid of its oltlcii state and liviuf!;. 

Harrow House! What a medley of thought fol- 
lows in the train of this ([uaint, aristocratic title! 
There is somethiii<>; in its very sound, that, like the 
rubbing of Aladdin's Lamp, conjures into existence a 
host of vagaries. One is of a gr(>at, S(iuare, niany- 
gublcd house, with generous clunmeys that crown it 




gracefully, and lend a hint of hospitality to the grand 
air that attaclies to such great old-fashioned houses. 
Within, are roomy halls and higli-poste<l ai)artiiients; 
all s(iuare, and nnich alike; with ample light from the 
windows, that east and south look out upon a won- 
derful })erspectiv(; of color, of water, woodland and 
sky, that are all shut out when the thick mists drift 
in from the sea. Then the flics are light e<l in the big 



160 r^^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

fireplaces that are found in every room, and lend their 
attractions to keep out the gloom that creeps into 
the great house, ^vith the opening of every door, 
from the wet, dripping world outside. What cosey 
places there are in the chimney corners and in the 
broad window-seats that look north and west through 
vistas of towering elms and prim Lombardy poplars, 

— while the rain beats its tattoo on the little window- 
panes, or the glow of the sunset lights them up! 
Another vagary of mine is, that this hue old mansion, 

— as it nuist have been, — held to the Knglish coun- 
try ways and service, so hospitable^ and generous, as 
it was the custom to maintain in many of the colo- 
nial residences in the Dominion of Maine. "Open 
house" had a meaning in those days of royal enter- 
taining, that the rushing, hurrying world of to-day 
knows nothing of, — at least the world that I have 
known, where a chance to take a long Ijreath is a 
luxury. Tt is another vagary of mine, that th(> floors 
were waxed to the lustre of a miri'or; in which the 
anticjue fui-nishings of carve(l oak and mahogany, and 
the old spinet, — for of course ther(> was one in its 
corner, — were ti])ped u])side down in their reflec- 
tions, as they wer(! arranged about the big rooms: 
and that there were 

"Ilanjiiiig ill shiiiinji array alonp; the walls of the fhaniher, 
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damas- 
cus, 
Curved at the ])()inl and inscribed with its mystical Arabic 

siMiteiice, 
While underneath, in a cortier, were fowlin<j;-j)iece, musket, 
and match-lock," — 



y^ h'OMA.\'CE OF CASCO BAY IGl 

as might have been seen in brave Miles StancHsh's 
Plymouth house, when he sent young Alclen on his 
amorous errand. What gatherings were here of the 
colonial elite, before the owner's downfall and death; 
Avith their courtly manners; their sturdy I*]nglish 
pluck and physitjue; their stately dames who could 
not forget their English birth, with their sweet ruddy- 
cheeked girlhootl as a mildly-tempenMl foil! For I 
v(Miture to say there was nion; than one Priscilla in 
the house, who knew what it was to have 

"The carded wool like a snowdrift 
Piled at her knee, her white hands feeding the ravenous 
spindle," 

making the fire-liglited rooms, and for that matter 
the whole house, 

"Beautiful with her beauty and rich with tiic wcaltli of her 
beiufj;." 

And on set occasions, there was more tlum one gallant 
youth to keep them company. 

But these are vagaries that disappc^ir, as I part the 
portals of these pasture birches on my return to the 
highway up the hill. Like Lot's wife of old, I cannot 
forbear turning about as I climb the slope to the high- 
way, to see if I nuiy not discover the old-time roofs, 
with their incense of blue smoke curling up into the 
sky of this early spring day; or the gVnnmer of their 
window-panes in the sunlight. But it is a vain wish; 
for there is only a bit of woodland and a wide stretch 
of water to see, and a stray white sail, — or when 



1G2 



y}-' h'OMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 



the tide is out, the water is becuine a sea of waving 
iiiarsli j2;rass, the hirkiii*!; })hiee lor many a bhiclv- 
winged rail and marsh bird. 

Little, as is known, of Harrow House, there is not 
nuicli more known of its provincial dweller. Gen- 
erous-heartcd, im[)ulsive, oix'ii-handcd, and patrician 
in his tastes and carriage, with but little of the s{)irit 
to brook serious disaster, though l)rave as a hon and 
of the Ix^st of ]3ioneer fighting mettle, a man of in- 
fluence in affairs, it is remarkable that so little is 

known of him in 
a historical way. 
Unlike some men 
whose less(>r ex- 
l)loits have gained 
h)r them a biogra- 
phy of some sort, 
the meagre sketch 
of West brook that 
■' — W-^^^-j^^^-— --^_jfe= \^ has been i)reserved 

in local history is 
unsatisfactory, leaving its subject shrouded in obscu- 
rit}' that seems undescM'ved and ungi'ateful. Accord- 
ing to a local historian, WCstbrook was led into land 
sjxMailations through the influence of Gen(M'al Waldo, 
and others of his trusted friends, which brought him 
only misfortune and disaster. I^\)r all his jjrominent 
services to the Dominion of Maine and its coloni(\s, 
and his worth as a memlxT of \\w connnunity, broken 
and disheartene(l by his losses, he died her(> at Tlari-ow 
House, an insolvent ; and his mansion, beautiful lor 




YE ROMAXCK OF CA.^CO ILiV 



103 



those <l;iys, w;is sold at nuctioii to pay his (Icljts. 
Not even his burial-phice is known; and nothing re- 
mains to his nieniory but his name, which was given 
to a part of Fahnouth, to-day, one of the most flour- 
ishing and charming of the sul)url)an boroughs which 
l)order on this old seai)()rt of ante-lvevolutionary fame. 

It WT)uld have been different, undoubtedly, had 
Waldo been less selfish and unscrupulous, and more 
humane, l^ut for AA'aldo's unnatui'al desin* to at- 
tach the lifeless body of the unh)rtunate Westbrook 
for debts into which his creditor's ill-advice had 
])lung(Ml him, the world would know his last resting- 
place, and would do it honor. Nothing is remem- 
bered to Westbrook's dishonor. He was a brave, 
tender-hearted man, whos(> generous faith in his own 
kind was larger than his shrewdness. 

The provincial records, the neighboring graveyard, 
and men's memories as well, are each, and all silent, 
respecting the man whose family found in him, its 
last re])resentative. 



-^^ 




A WAYSIDE INN 





A WAYSIDE INN 

) there anything more aboimd- 
uig in restfuhiess and content, 
more incUvichially charming 
)r attractive, than a country 
house grown old, so gracefully, 
that the days when it was young 
have been forgotten? Its sober- 
going disregard of the new^-fangled 
otions that get into the roofs — 
heads, I should say, j^x^rhaps, — of the 
more modern house family, with their Queen Anne 
delusions, their gingerbread decorations, their ex- 
aggerations and neuralgic affectations of style, is 
delightful. Is there a surer panacea for over-w'orked 
humanity than one of these quiet, old-fashioned, 
unpretentious domiciles, such as one finds nestling 
under the patriarchal elms along some secluded 
by-way; overlooking some slow-flowing river, with 
its perspective of meadows, and sloping farms 
and blue hills; or buried deep in the afternoon 
shadow^s of some New Hampshire valley — houses 
whose recommendations are never called for; whose 

1G7 



1G8 



I'-fc-' hoMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 




simple comforts arc })i-(jverbiul; exniiforts that peep 
from the corners of one cosey room and another, 
iil)stairs, downstairs, in the big kitchen, even, haunted 
hcM-e and there by (juaint, time-stained furniture of the 
century-old pattern; whose reputations are founded 
ui)on a good old age — and whose broad roofs and 

stately dignity 
are the certifi- 
cates of an emi- 
nent respect al)il- 
ity? 

Looks tell in 
houses as in men. Faces have their attractions; so 
have shadow}' eaves and sloping roofs, and big- 
toi)ped chinuieys. Sometimes they give the houses 
they shelter a bad r(>])ute, that is fostered by stori(\s 
of spooks and legends of unsavory doings at initimely 
hours. ^^'hat surly, glowering visages are such, 
that look out ui)on untidy front yards, owning per- 
hai)s a single lonely clump of lilac bushes, with 
jjinched, ap])ealing look akin to what one sees in the 
face of a mendicant; with the dila])idated fence, 
that hedges in an unkempt, flowerless enclosures 
arousing swift feelings of conuniseration, — that kind 
of pity which is better kept to one's self, and which 
hastens one's footsteps down the road in self-de- 
fence! ]\Iore often than not, the ])resence of (>ven 
this solitary clump of lilacs is lacking, with its hint 
of freshness, its kindliness of suggestion and rugged 
encouragenuMit. — as if Nature, after so long a pe- 
riod of doubtinii hesitancv, and delay about the time 



YE ROMANCE OF CA^CO BAY TOO 

of lier going, had excused lu^rscif from such ill-iuan- 
nered coiiipany, that (hd nothing all day long but 
leor at her with eyes stuffed with a motley array of 
rags; or ])atched here and there with an expression- 
less bit of shingle, for the want of a few cents' worth 
of glass, antl putty, and some slight exertion, — way- 
marks common to country highways that lead not 
unlikely to some ])lace known in the region as Poverty 
Corner. I remember once passing through a country 
hamlet, which was better know^n as Hard-scraljble 
than liy the name of the big towii that taxed its 
polls; and there was hardly a house in the i)lac(^ that 
had not a piece of pin(> shingle, or a bit of old <}uilt, 
or the crown of a castaway hat, wdiere a pane of glass 
should have been. It struck me as something very 
discouraging if the world were always to b(> sec^i 
through such a patched-up medium. But, then, 
some people get used to their places so easily! I 
query whether it is because they expect so little in 
life, and so accept what comes to them with a sort of 
querulous resignation, or expect nothing at all more 
than a hand-to-mouth existence. I suspect that 
these people, and the houses that lend them shelter, 
and an ill-looking certificate of character, are the 
natural irritants which humanity needs; for a slov- 
enly poverty is a misfortune that carries its own 
quality of repulsiveness ; to say nothing of the (luality 
of the bondage which it im])oses upon the body and 
soul of its unfortunates. One is likely to keep out 
of the company of such, as he would avoid a nest 
of cockles. 



17(1 



YK h'OMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



I do not iH-licvc in {\\v total (l('i)i'a\'ity of tlu> liii- 
iiian race. There is a taint of meanness hu^tiin^' the 
sluulow of such a behef. Like some other things that 
liave })een preached for years, the more it is i)reached, 
the less |)eople believe in it; because it is contrary 
to human nature and men's truer instincts. The 
heart speaks louder than the book; and r(>i)els the 
doctrine that Avould absolve the few, and leave the 
many in the out(>r coui'ts of the Hereafter. One 




likes to b(Tiev(> in his neiiihbor: bnt with the <i:host 
of Total Depi'avity at his elbow, it is a difiicult thing 
to do. A\'ith old houses it is the sani(\ I lik(> to 
l)elieve all houses as good as they look; and 1 rarely 
get disa])pointe<l upon closei' ac<(uaintan('(\ 

Lik(> all old roads, this artery of lra\('l into the 
inland, fi'om which the little hamlet of Stroudwat(U' 
draws its nourishment, holds many a surprise for 
the wayfai'ei" who follows its nai'row trend for tlu^ 
iii'st time. 

From the top of Sli-oudwater Hill one sees a grou|) 
of stately elms; and within the gi'ay shadows of 
tlieir sha|)ely domes, doubly conspicuous from tluMr 
height and niassiv(> pi'oj)()rtions, and their isolation 
in the midst of the rolling farmlands a clustei' of 



yi' ROMANCE OF <".4.SX'0 BAY 



171 



dark roofs of ancient a.sjx'ct, that have uphold tlic 
honor of then* builder thcHC hundred years and more. 
This place was known as Broad's Tavern over a cen- 
tvny ago, — one of the famous hostelries along the 
ancient coach road to Jioston, j)ast which the lum- 
])ering coaches went on th(>ir way, to or fi'om, old 
Falmouth town twice a week; which was some- 
thing remarkable in the way of travelling accomnio- 

Is 



<- C 




r I. > w 



'i 



'/L 



APPROACH TO BROAD TAVERN 



dations for those times; considering the })rimitive con- 
dition of the roads, that gave the traveller a shak- 
ing-up that lasted him several days. To be exact, 
this superior service dates from 1760, before which 
time the mails ;ver(> very irregular; mail matter not 
being despatched until enough had accumulated to 
pay the carrier, who came, and went with it, on foot, 
carrying the mail-bag on his back. After a time, 
horses, and the more convenient saddl(>-bags were 
us(>d; but the mail came and went as leisun^h' as 
ever A schedule of arrival and departure was a 



172 yf': h'oMAxcj-: of casco ilw 

thinji iiiitlu)iifi;lit of. A caso in point is an anecdote 
told by ^\'illis, of a l-'ahnoiith <j;entlenian ^vho, by 
stress of business was oblipMl to make the trip to 
I^oston, — no mean undertaking then, — who had 
waited several days for his mail, but the mail-car- 
rier did not come. Imj)atient to be off, the gentle- 
man Ix'gan his journey. Ih^ m(>t Hai'uard, (he carrier, 
in Saco woods, when^ the mail was deliberately 
opened by the roadsid(> and the wished-for com- 
numicatioii delivei-cd. Harnai'd's honesty must have 
been of tlic proverbial "Downcast" sort. 

The deep ruts that once turned into the ample 
tavern yard are gone; likewise^ the big sign that 
swung to and fro in the shadow of the big elm across 
the road by the barns. Th(> only suggestion of the 
fornun", is a narrow footpatli made by the housefolk 
in their commonijlace goings and comings; while only 
tlie gray, weather-stained {)()st, leans out over the 
highway to still remind the traveller of its ancient 
occuj)ation, — as lonely, :ui(l neglected now, as it is 
barren of its old-time importanc(\ 1 do not imagine 
that the old Inroad Tavern was so nuieh diffenMit 
from that famous wayside inn, the firelit wimlows 
of which flashed tlu>ir red flame, 

"One .Vutuinn iii^lil in Sudbury town, 
Acro.ss the ine;i(l«)\vs l)ar(' and brown;" 

for it is of the same kith and kin. 

"As ancient is this hostelry 
As any in the land may 1m', 



yA' ROMANCE OF OASCO BAY 173 

Huilt ill tlic old Colonial day, 
When men lived in a <!;rander way, 
With ampler hospitality." 

Bettor still, as I turn into tho spacious yard, un- 
der the great elms, that from the hilltop, looked so 
much like a great green dome, I see an old estate 
with hardly a single sign of decay about it, unless it 
be the sagging ridgepoles of the horsesheds, that 
extendi down the road from the barns that stand as 
staunch, as though a hundred winters had not hurled 
their sleet, and drifting snows, and January rains 
against their moss-patched gables. There are no 

"Weather-stains upon the wall, 
And stairways worn, and crazy doors, 
And creaking and uneven floors," 

in this old tavern, for it is one of the best-preserved 
houses hereabout ; and when it was my good fortune 
to see all there was to see about the old place, it pos- 
sessed a store of antiquated things that would turn 
the head of any bric-a-brac hunter. 

This w^as comparatively a new country when 
Thaddeus Broad came hither, more than a century 
ago, to build his cabin and, with his good wife Lucy, 
settle down beside the old trail, which was soon to 
be the great thoroughfare between the more impor- 
tant settlements of three States. All of the worldly 
chattels of the elder landlord of the Stroudwater Inn, 
coming hither from the older and more ])opu]ous 
Massachusetts colony, were carried in an am))lc hand- 
kerchief. Here, at the edge of Stroudwater, he be- 



174 



y- Ix'OMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 



gall a huinble enough caivcr, with his saw, !)roa(Iaxe 
ami haininor, to get together a shelter which the way- 
farer of those days was wilhng to accept when over- 
taken on his journey by tiu> nightfall; or the tough 
storms that swejjt in- 
land from the sea, 
scouring the sand- 
dunes and marshes. 
T h i s entertainment 
gnnv to he a custom. 
The little house on the 
Stroudwater road was 
enlarged into a com- 





of th 



modious tavern. Big 
barns were built, and 
n e w 1 a 11 (Is were 
cleai-ed for grass and 
grain with which to 
fill tiieiu. A sign was 
swung to the winds, 
and the criticism of 
the traveller. 

( )iie can see a bit 
)lack sign, once aml)iti(Mis enough, at the 
1 found it in the Hi'oad tool-house, along 



Old i)lace. 

with the last one that swung from th(> Broad gable. 

On one side of this old relic was a painting of the 



Y'-: ROM.wci': or cAsro bay 175 

fnf!;ato Const it \it ion under way, with all sails sot. On 
the reverse were depicted a Continental soldier and 
a red-coat in bellig(M'ent attitude. Appropriate and 
patriotic mottoes might be read on cither side of 
the old sign; while across the lower panel was j)rinted 
the name of the tavern-keei)er and the date of the 
tavern " housewarming." 

In IS.'M, the son Silas replaced this ancient and 
nuich shattered symbol of his father's hosj)itality 
with one which rescMubled a huge bunch of grapes 
painted a bi'ight yellow against a wooden ])ackground 
of vine-leaf deftly carved at the edge. This hung 
from a huge wooden hand until long aftcn- the rail- 
road was oi)ened eastward fi'om Portsmouth to Port- 
hind, which soon j)erceptibly alTected the travel ()V(>r 
the old Boston road, and likewise the revenue of 
the Broad hostelry. 

For years Silas Broad kej)t o)^(>n house: and with 
him passed away the routine of tavern-kee])ing, ))ut 
not the flavor of olden romance that was iH'culiarly 
appurtenant to \\\v Broad acn^s and savory chimney 
smokes, nor the legend of its hos])itality — which 
hospitality indeed is to this day graciously dispensed 
in private life, vmdei' the same old roof-tree, by the 
last of the line, Miss Almira Ann Broad, whose 
horizon-line of Stroudwater woods does not by any 
means mark the boundary of her influence and phi- 
lanthro])y. 

The Broads were a har<ly and toil-toughened race. 
Lucy, the first hostess of the famous Broads, died at 
the age of on(> hundred and live, and the present 



176 y- ROMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

(Iwcllcr at tlie old inn, at the rijH' afjo of sovonty- 
one, ])ossess('(l the freshness, aiul vivacity, and ruddy 
licalth of a woman in the ))rinie of Ufe. 

Standing on the l)n)ad fhig of granite that held the 
a])proaeh to the gabled ))or('h, apparently the now- 
adays entrance to the hig house, I grasped the black 
iron knocker; and a strange metallic crasli of sound 
went clattering down the hall within, up the front 
stairs, and through the house, out into the great 
kitchen, to tell, with hollow voice, its message. A 
feeling ahnost of remorse stole over me at this cold- 
blooded invasion of what seenied a sacred precinct; 
for T was a stranger to the i)e()])le who lived here, 
the direct descendants of old Colonel Broad, who 
might reasonably be exix'cted to resent such flagrant 
curiosity. But no one answering, I sent the echoes 
of the huge knocker flying through the house a second 
time. The door o])ening just a bit, I caught the 
glimj)S(^ of a })air of mild brown eyes, with just a 
hint of doubt about them, ])eeping out betw^een its 
narrow edge and the stout pine lintel. Satisfied with 
this preliminary survey, a sweet-faced woman with 
white kerchief pinned about her shapely shoulders, 
her hair with just a hint of silver in it, combed straight 
back, without a single artificial touch or garnishment 
to mar its simi)le beauty, stood within its shadow. 

"I called to see the liousel"" I said. 

" Will you walk in, sir?" was the gracious n^sponso. 

Over the charmed threshold, down the long hall, 
into the old-fashioned sitting-room I went. One side 
of it. mostly of glass, looks out o\-er a green slo])e of 



YF^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



111 



mowing-laiid oxtcndinor ,l„wn to the woods tlmt partly 
hide the bhie waters of the creek. I sit in the big 
rocker that was the favorite a century ago, with a 
sense of restfuhiess that makes the chat of okl times 
and the okl house ck'Hghtful enough. A bright fire 
of seasoned birch is bkizing upon tlie wide h(>arth 
that has burned out many crackhng back-logs; and 




BROAD TAVERN 

upon whose glowing coals many a nuig of fhp has set 
"a-simmering" to serve its turn with the travellers 
and wags who sought the hos))itality of tli(> old tav(>rn. 
Incongruous as the fire may seem, with tlie roof- 
tree overshadowed Iw the green tops of the elms, it 
was cheerful on this mornmg early in June, for the 
days preceding had been days of cold rain, l(>aving 
a feeling of dampness and chill al)()ut the old house, 



178 )■/- h'oM.wcr: of casco hay 

for all llic siiniiiicr sun was shininji; so brilliantly 
upon the fields and woods. It added to the pleasure 
to see the old heailh made younfi; again in its glory 
of Icviping flame. 

Tt was here in these rooms that the elite of old- 
fashioned and ai'istocratic Falmouth were enter- 
tained by their jolly landlord, whose two lumdred 
avoirdu])ois and ruddy faee gave ampl(> ])ro()f of good 
eheer; and the long hall that runs through the centre 
of the house was the scene of many a hilarious fes- 
tivity, where now, on either side, are bits of real old- 
fashioned mahogany : the straight-backed chair with 
curiously woN'en bottom of greenish rushes, a cim- 
ningly-carved (\scritoire with brightly |)()lished brass 
candelabra, and shining tal)le-to]), each one of which 
has a history of its own. This desk Ix-longcMl to Judge 
Mellen, and that other thing to some other distin- 
guish(>d p(>rson, making them enviable possessions in 
these days of swift foilunes and swift social ekwation. 

It was a great place for winter dancing parties 
from town, and it is not difficult to imagine the b(\ui- 
tiful picture of an evening at Sudbury Imi, having 
its counterpart at this ancient ruin at Stroudwatcr 
— when, 

" Hovind this old-fashionod, (luaiiit nliodo, 
])o('|) sikMicc I'cijined, sav(> when a ijust 
^\'('Ilt rusliiiin- down tlie couiitrv road, 
And skek'toiis of leaves, and dnsl, 
A moment quickcnod by its l)roath. 
Stuidiicicd and dainc(l llicir daiirc of death, 
And thronfih the ancient oaks o'eiliead 
^ Mysterious voices moaned and lied." " " 



Y^: ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 179 

In this orarkl'm*:; l/ircluMi flamo, I f^oc tho gay 
townfolk who have come out here for a good time, 
in their smart eostmnes; their liair wliite with powder, 
and tlieir eheeks berouged and l)e[)at('hed; the gen- 
tlemen not a whit the less stylishly gotten up; with 
their long ([ueues don(^ up in ribbons; their silk 
hos(^ and velvet breeches; their (Mnbroidei'ed waists- 
coat and dainty laces; their silvci' or gold knee- 
buckles and jjumps, waiting for some tardy exquisite 
who is looked upon as the leader of this jolly set ; or 
it may be the fiddler who is belated, — for a dance 
is nothing without a fiddle, and an old-fashioned 
fiddler to fiddle it. 

But the time has come for the festivity to b(^gin. 
There is a hush in this youthful liilarity that is merged 
in the bustle incident to the more inmietUate prep- 
arations for a stately minuet, or a more rollicking 
measure still. Over all there sounded 

" The music of a violin. 
The firelijiht, shoddinji- over all 
Tho splendor of its riuhly glow. 
Filled the whole i)urh)r larjie and low; 
It cleanied on wainscot and on wail." — - 

and ri\"alling the flickering of the home-made "tal- 
low-dip." it shone into the faces of fair women, only 
to find a rival warmth in the ruddy glow of their 
cheeks. It was a dissipation that was kept u]) into 
the wee small hours of the morning, if the chi-oniclcr 
of these (wents is to be believed. — and much to th(^ 
scandal.of the connnunitv; for to tiu^ orthodox mind 



180 yi: I^OMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

in those days, (l:iiicin«j; was a hire of the licnd. In 
rrovincial laliiioulh daiiciiifj; was prohibited by law, 
ill phiccs of " pubhc resort. "" The "quahty" in town 
lield their dances at Freeman's tavern, an old-time 
hostelry of most excellent repute, and on one occa- 
sion, as early as the first year of the Revolution, the 
dancers were indicted. Among them was Theophi- 
lus Bradbury, who afterwards became a distinguished 
lawyer, and with whom the distinguished Theophilus 
Parsons studied in after years. Bradbury appeared 
for the respondents with the ingenious defence that 
as the dancers had hired tlie room for the season, it 
became a ])rivate ai)artiiicnt and was not a place of 
''])ublic resort." The court sustained the counsel's 
view of the case, and the "(juality" danced to their 
lieart's content ever after. 

Sitting here, with the sound of the fire-mu.sic within, 
and the whistle of the robin in the orchard trees 
without, my hostess told a story connected w-ith the 
inn, of a cou])le of not over-hardened gamesters, and 
their experience with the occupant of the Bradley 
parsonage. It was on a Saturday night. In this self- 
same room it may have been, that a group of revel- 
lers, betwixt their hoi to(ldy. their card-playing, and 
their wooing of the fickle goddess, with a constantly 
increasing ])ile of winnings on one side and a con- 
stantly lightening purse on the other, grew so ob- 
livious to churchly ))rece])t that the game lasted 
well into Sunday moiMiing. A look at the tall clock 
in its cornel- iti the hall told them what, with all its 
loud strikint:, had gone unhee(le(l, that midnight had 



yt: ROMANCE OF CASCO HAY 181 

come and gone, — a revolation not iininixed with 
twinges of conscience, that caused the cards at once 
to disappear. With an extra nuig of flip around, 
they said their good-night. 

"AIoiu; reinuiiUHl the drowsy squire, 
To rake the embers of the fire, 
And quench the \vaiiin<i; parlor U<!;ht; 
While from the windows here and there, 
The scattered lamps a moment gleamed, 
And the illumined hostel seemed 
The constellation of the Bear, 
Downward, athwart the misty air. 
Sinking and setting toward the sun. 
Far off, the village clock struck one." 

Not all of those midnight reveUers took their can- 
dles from the narrow mantel to hght them to l)ed 
along the big hall and up the stairway. Two of the 
hilarious company, wishing their sleepy landlord a 
good night's rest, went out into the dark highway 
that crept past Parson Bradley's. AVith unccM'tain 
steps they kept the faintly discernible track, down 
the hollow and up the hill between the inn and the 
old grist-mill brook that went down to the marsh as 
noisily in the dark as in broad daylight, as if it knew 
the way so well it had no need of eyes, — which was 
more than could be said of the two scapegraces who 
went creeping over it by the help of the sagging 
handrail of its old bridge. 

The nearer they came to th(^ parsonage, tlu^ livelier 
grew their consciences at having tresjiassed upon the 
Lord's time. After a brief del)ate, and not without 



182 



)'■ h'OMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



misgiving, they concliidcd to fall up the parson and 
divide the spoils with him, thinking that by turning 
into the church treasury a part of th(nr illgotten gains, 
])artial absolution might be secured. They plodded 
along through the dark and over the hill by the 




:'i'M^ 






Tate house, past its black elms, glancing no doubt at 
its gloomy windows, as if ex))ecting some uncanny 
thing, perhaps some old woman's ghost, might be 
there to cast its glowering eyes u])on them, — for 
those were times when uneasy s))irits went abroad 
o' nights. They kept uj) their courage by dint of 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



183 



loud talk and an occasional ])ull at th(^ Mack l)ottlo, 
dreading most of all the {)arson's scathing rebuke, 
which woidd untloubtedly gi'ec^t their endeavor to 
make him a party to their michristian ])ractices. The 
j)ars()n's sk'uder wicket rattled loudly as they opened 
it, and they made a furious din with the brazen 
knocker at the door, whereat the j^reacher, noted foi- 
his dry sayings, his keen satire, and his eccentricities, 
came to the door to listen to the midnight confession. 
What they said is not recorded, but hardly had the 
old man received the silver, when he astonished his 
callers l)y his mild ac([uiescence and the half-ap])rov- 
ing in((uiry: 

"Well, gentlemen, why did you not i)lay longer?" 
Along a narrow^, old-fashioned mantel, so high up 




that I could no more than easily n^ach it standing, 
were the same old candlesticks a-row which belongcMl 
to the earliest dav.s of this inn, and which gleamed as 



184 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

kindly ami looked as gay as it' they luul just coiiie 
from the modern manufacturer of bric-a-brae ; only 
there was the not easily describable flavor of an- 
ti([uity about them which is lacking in the modern 
article. 

The ancient brass-mounted andirons, the fender 
and heavy tongs, and the long, slender-backed, 
broad-bladed shovel, polished to the brilliancy of 
g(>ld, keep them demure company about the broad 
fireplace, that with its short, chunky jambs speak of 
the stout-heartedness and toughness of things in gen- 
eral when its virgin flues were first aglow with flame. 
What tales thes(> (|uaint appurtenances of this old 
room could tell, with its medley of experiences of 
home life, that began with the hanging of its stal- 
wart cran(>, the dawning of its child life, the in- 
coming and the outgoing of its stranger guests, its 
episodes of roistering entertainment, and its mid- 
night revels! >\'hat a store of precious secrets are 
held within the heart of its old roof-tree of ])ine; as 
sound, every timber about it, as wluMi with big 
broadaxe they were hewn scjuare, and, with malU^t 
and chisel, were fitted into a ])erfect roof-plate, rafter, 
and ridgepole! A S([uare house, goodly in propor- 
tions, set upon capacious foundations, with two good 
stories al)ove. It is j)aint(Hl white, with cool-looking 
green blinds, to give a i)leasing contrast; and fi'om 
the eaves on the sid(> toward the highway, its sharply- 
pitched roof rims up to a stout ridgej)ole with its 
single stout chinm(>y amidships; to make as steep a 
descent on its rear sid(>, keeping on do\Mi over its 



yi'- ROM.WCK OF (M.SC'O BAY ISO 

ell, shod-likc, until its low caves overshadow the 
windows of the ancient kitchen. Ivist, and west, its 
gables look with the highway. From the horsesheds, 
eastward, it is a delightful vista of birchen woods 
over th(> .June landscape to the farthest i)oiiit of the 
horizon, old " Hlack-strap," with its wooden monu- 
ment, a relic of a coast survey made in the early 
part of the century. AX'estward, from the hooded 
doorway, with its sidelights of green-glass, one sees 
the sun set amid the orchard to])s; and that is all. 

From the restful (nitertaimuent of this old room 
and its smouldering hearthfire, the nuisical speech of 
my gentle hostess in her suit of gray, and the .lune 
sunlight without, with the west wind blowing through 
the orcliard and into the o|)en windows, bringing with 
it a l)ar or two of some orchard singei-'s madi'igal, it 
is but a step to the (juaint staircase with its slender 
handrail. The shadows thicken as the gai'i'et is ap- 
proached with its single window in either gable, a 
roomy, imfinished intei'ioi', rich in meiiioi-ials of a 
time and a ])eople, th(» sim[)lest ej)is()(les of whose 
most matter-of-fact existence are tinged now with 
the color of romance. 

This old garret is not so different from on(> I knew 
as a ])layground on wet days at the home farm when 
a boy; and I ncn't^' hear the i-ain beating on the 
roof, or taj)i)ing, with its wet fingers, at my window- 
pane, but the sloj)ing rafters of that garret come to 
my mind. I look again out of its cobwebby panes 
upon the dripping woods across th(^ ])astures, while all 
the skv between is grav with driving mists and wind- 



80 



)■''■' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



blown rain swept across tlic dai'k hackj^round of the 
pines in slanting shoots of wot, that loave the tus- 
socks of kahnias white with crystal (lr()])s; paint the 
walls and fences and the trunks of the trees black 
with the drenching; and drivc^ the birds into their 
leafy hichng-places. What strange things one finds 
ill these garrets of old houses, with their stained 
])ine rafters and sloping walls, so thickly hung with 



_^V 



%. 










'^'-m^St " 'il^'-^' ir 



■^^""^^^m 




AN ANCIENT HOSTELRY 



tapestry ti'oni ihe loom of some vagrant s])ider! 
What anti(|ue fui'nishings are these that fill ev(M-y 
nook with a ))rosonco that inclines one to silence, and 
makes one step softly o\-er the creaking boards of 
the floor, as if in fear of disturbing the slumbers of its 
dusty tenants that have been asleep so long! These 
old garrets are the homes of the ghost family, and it 
is no wonder that one feels the weird inlluences that 
lurk behind e\■er^■ shadow. It is a drows^• enough 



V' ROMA.XCE OF CASCO HAY 1S7 

placo, — hut what sufjfirstions look out upon one 
with puzzUng (luery from the iiKMllcy of ohl para- 
phernaha that has outhvcd its chiy and iK^ojtlc by so 
many g(»norations! W'liat a fare i)la('(' h)r an auc- 
tion, — a real f)l(l-fashion('(l country " N'andoo," to 
which cvcrylxxly would conu^ for miles around, to 
luive a l)it of harndess gossij) ahout their neighbors, 
or their crops; to bid a few c(Mits for some coveted 
object that has l)een long cherished in this "Old 
Curiosity Shop!" These auction entcrtaimnents, 
however, as I remeinlKM', wei'e largely of the out-of- 
door kind; whatever was to 1)(> sold undei- the ham- 
mer was piled promiscuously into the ami)le front 
yard for everyl^ody to see; while many a yarn was 
spun at the expense of one article after another; and 
it was a miracle, if the rain did not come down before 
the sale was over, or the day was out. Fair, or foul, 
it did not matter, as the whole transaction bore a 
funeral aspect; whil(> the auctioneer's wit was of the 
subdued melancholy sort; as if this selling of family 
heirlooms w(>ro an indefensible piece of sacrilege; as if 
there were something of shame attaching to the gar- 
rulous part he felt himself to have taken in this clos- 
ing act of an old-time drama. 

There are .several families living jKvicefully in this 
out-of-the-way comnumity, where the hrst day of 
Ai)ril has no more significance tlian the first day of 
any other month, so far as the visit of the town as- 
sessors is concerned: and the tax colk^ctor evidently 
knows nothing of the place, for he is never ,-<een h(>re. 
What taxes are levied and collected h(>re are those 



188 



}■/•'• h'OM.WCl-: OF CASCO /)'.! )' 



coinnion to the domain of the lioiisc-cat , whoso 
l)rio;lit eyes nuiy he seen at almost any time of the 
(hiy Hashini:; like a pair of cnicraKls aflame, set in the 
black ol)scurity of the farthest <2;arret corner, while 
their owner knows no more c lei i<2;ht fill occiq^ation 
than this silent wailing- for the unsuspicious rodent 
whose appetite is like to be his ruin. Here is a I'ai'e 
table for th(^ s(iuirrels and the kisser mice; with the 
garret floor strewn with the yellow harvest of the 
corn-rows; where (>vei'y setting svm ushers in a field- 
day, or rather a field-night, for these mischief-makers, 
who go scami)ering, u]) and down, with a (iue(>r rus- 
tling footste]) that reminds one of shivering leav(>s, 
and winter snows. An old battered sciuiri-el-traj) of 
wood, sprung long days ago foj- the last tim(\ is here; 
with its nubbin of corn stri])i)ed bai'e of (>\'ei-y kernel 
by some sly chipnumk, or by the mice that have 
crawled in and out its spindle-hole, no doubt some- 
what enlarged by the sharp chisels of their teeth. 
Here is the identical tow string that, 1 trow, has 
more than one bit of boyish romance^ twistcnl into 
its y(dlow fibre, that carri(Ml the message from the 
sjjindle to the heavy l~)ox-cover that it was time to 
shut its scjuirrel guest in, — when down it dropped 
with a terrible ci'ash, holding the stri])ed marauder 
a close ])i'isonei', until a llaxen-haii'ed boy, whose 
countei'part 1 some time kiunv. should come to re- 
lease^ him. ll is a wondei-ful iKUiorama of bygone^ 
days that unwinds from this self-sam(> spindle, as I 
lift the heavy cover, tied down with many a mesh 
of cobweb. Inlike Pandora's box. this is over- 



Y^ ROMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 189 

brininiin<? with ^jood thiiifrs; and like it, too, thoy 
come trooping out so fust, and so many of them, 
that it is impossible to keep them in, — for every 
day in all of boyhood's fleet ing years is here; and each 
is crowded with a reminiscence for every hour. It 
is a nnisic-box as well; for it seems to be full of tunes 
of bobolinks; of white-throated sparrows; of thrash- 
ers and robins; and of swift-running brooks and fall- 
ing raindrops; and there are hints of flame of cardi- 
nal blossoms, of wind-flowers and bluets, of yellow and 
purple corn leaves, and of orchard bloom and dande- 
lions, of mellow suidight and Hashing wings. This is a 
delightful family to visit, and once in its company 
there is nothing to say, although so much to think of. 
Near neighbors to these are the flax-wlieel, and 
hatchel, and the liuge bunch of tow. I twirl the 
little wheel round and round, and it is a rare song 
of old days it sings, for all the rickety treadle creaks 
its remonstrance in a way not to be misunderstood, 
— for it sets up to l)elong to the aristocracy of the 
Linen family, and a good old Irish family it is. The 
big spinning-wheel, with a nuisical burr to its speech, 
chides the flax-wheel upon this exhibition of family 
pride; and suggests in a brisk sort of way common to 
the connections of the Woollen family, that the 
family name does not go a great way now-a-days in 
the getting of a living; and people who rely on their 
ancestral honors to win them a place in the world, 
find themselves in a precarious way. The great hand- 
loom, that has made. I do not know how many yards 
of homespun in its day, sets its ])on(lerous seal of 



11)0 



)'■: h'OM.WCI-: ill' CASro HAY 



MpitroNal to tliis opinion of the spinninji-wlu'cl, with 
;i sin<i:l(' clash of its empty slcys. There is an allirnia- 
ti\"e I'ustlinti; atnon<2; the b()l)hins in the huge s(|iiare 
basket of ash, that keeps its i)iace besides tlie bench 
on wliich the good wife sat at her weaving. Not 

k n o w i n g how thc^ 
matter may end, and 
wishing to keej) good 
friends all ai'ound, I 
turn my back \\\)o\\ 
this cousinly difler- 
en ce, to c a t c li a 
giini})se of a brave 
old muster-coat of 
stained and faded 
bkie, with its huge 
brass ))uttons and 
cheNrons wrought in 
ri'd cord, the only 
relic of a once warlike 
family, peaceful 
enough in these ])eace- 
ful days. The bat- 
t(>red sword that hangs beside it, thai glistened bravely 
at the old-fashioned musters, and on training days, is 
now subj(M'te(l to a more ignominious fate. To keep 
it fitting company. th(> e([ually ancient (lintlock 
nuisket stands guai'd in a corner clos(> by, with a l)ox 
of battereil (lints that w(>re brought home from 
Madawaska, or from some other forage; and a cart- 
ridge-box covered with black leather hanging by a 




y/- A'O.U.l.vr/-; OF CASCO li.W I'll 

rusty nail, close hy the I'lislii-r iiiuskct-iinizzlc. 'J h('r(^ 
is no stncll of powdcr-sniokc* about the old coat; but 
^■isions of woodland trails, ;ind <;ieanis of {'ani]){ires in 
the shadows of the deep hemlocks, of ^vat('hful men, 
and of roisterin*;- traininji; days, with their Ijutts of 
Jamaica rum and jjingerbread booths that lasted long 
after the Revolution, are i)ainted up and down its 
dusty lapels. My eyes are not old enough to .see 
all thei'e is here, for it all occurred before my day. 
The old iron sword, ne\'ei- drawn upon a more belli- 
gerent occasion than one of these trainings, if the 
truth were known, — a l)loodless r(>lic, — made a 
capital corn-shellei' Ijefore the mechanical device for 
shelling corn was invented. I susjx'ct that more 
than one counti'y boy has sat a-straddle the corn-box, 
with the ])oint of one of these old sword I'elics h(>ld 
in place by an iron sta])le drix'en into the end of the 
box before him. while the handle, ))laced between 
two boards set cross-wise this selfsame box, was held 
clown by the avoirdupois of the operatoi', his legs 
sprawling wide apart, and his left hand gras])ing the 
Ixick of the sword, while the ear, held in the right, 
was di'awn stoutly upwai'd against the dull edge of 
the clumsy wea{)on, and so the coi-n was scrai)e(l clean 
from the col), first at the little end. and then at the 
butt. This was a not unusual occu])alion on rainy 
days in sununer; or in the iirelight of a winter even- 
ing, when the meal chest needed replenishing; it 
was a sign that the n(>xt stormy day would send 
some on(^ of the menfolk to the miller. That was a 
\)'Avi of the story of the old swoi'd to m(\ 



11)2 yp- ROMA N( 'E OF CA S( 'O liA 1 ' 

V>\\i thore is a more royal family yet in this old 
garret; for, in a sequestered corner, I have spied a 
pair of rusty iron dogs with their legs crossed in a 
dignified way; and hanging from the rafters over- 
licad is an oUl copper \varming-])an with a long 
handle, that, filknl with glowing coals raked from 
between these identical andirons, lent its warmth to 
its owner's bed on cold winter nights. Close beside 
it is the ancient tin baker, in which countless batches 
of cream biscuit have been baked to perfection; and 
to keep it company is the spit on which the Thanks- 
giving turkeys were basted, and done to a turn; and 
here is the iron crank, dreaded In- boy and girl alike, 
by which the roast was turned, I'oiind and round, 
with a slowness that was exasperating. An ancient 
tin lantern, with jx-rforated sides, and a socket for 
its "tlipped" candle, that had its usual i)lace upon 
the mantel ov(m- the sitting-room fireplace, that no 
doubt lighted the goodman safely over the drifted 
path to the barns, and that had, as well, shed its 
dim light over many a husking bout, is her(\ It is 
of a quaint pattern, with scjuare sides and a to]) that 
resembles the hi])-roof to a toy house; and its sides 
ar(> figured with scrolls and fiower-work, deftly out- 
lined by puncturings large and small; and at the top, 
or peak of its roof, is a little loop of tin, just big 
enough to receive a single finger, which was to serve 
the lant(^rn-l)earer for a bail. To keep this old lan- 
tern from being lonesome, is a tin horn, a good yard 
in length, that used to sound its alarm across lots on 
week days to call the farm-helj) to tlinner; and on 



y? RO}r.\X('E OF CASCO BAY 103 

Sundays, maybe, to call tho p;oo(l ]')('()))1(' of the 
vicinity to church; and in case of conflagration to 
summon the neighbors with their buckets; this was 
before church-bells could be afforded, and before the 
new-f angletl trumpets with their whanging notes came 
in with the peripatetic vender of Connecticut notions. 

Here is something that could tell a story if it 
would, — a curiously gotten-u{) affair that, in the 
days before such a comfort as a fire was known at 
church, was taken along, with the rest of the family, 
full of ruddy coals to keep the feet of the women 
warm. 

But this is not all I have found in this haunted 
spot; for there is a warning of singing-wings, and I 
have discovered a huge wasps' nest over the window, 
which has no doubt been there many a year^, for 
wasps are partial to such places; and once well-set- 
tled, are loath to leave; no matter how nmch they 
may chsconunode the housewife as she goes after her 
herbs that hang from the adjacent rafter. 

Was there ever an old garret without its pine chest, 
into which all things have been piled from decade to 
decade, which always repays rummaging to the bot- 
tom? I have found one here, and scarcely have I 
lifted the lid before there is a scampering of mice, 
and a rustling among the bits of faded paper that 
cover the bottom so thickly; and sure enough, I find 
just what I expected after I caught the scampering 
sound, a nest of tiny mice, as snugly ensconced in 
their house of paper, as the people downstairs in their 
house of wood. If there were ever anv tales of olden 



104 



y: h'OMAXcK OF CASCO HAY 



(lavs in this chcsl, iho mice have worn thorn nut with 
thcif rcadinii of thcni; or found thcni so chy, that, 
critic-like, they have torn tliein into IVits to build 
them into an (nhfice of their own. 

It was years ago that I saw these thinf^s, and I 
know not how nuich fact and fancy are mixed in the 
order of relation. A rare memorial of a rare and 
l)y<i;()n(> race is this Wayside Tnn of old Stroudwater, 
wilh its peaked ^-ahles, its black raofs, and its ])ig 
chimney, that hespeak a comfort, a substance and a 
thrift of exceptional ([uality; and a hospitality the 
like of which is as rai'c as the brass-mounted bed- 
st(>a(ls I found in its sl(>ej)in<z;-i'ooms, — all four posts 
of which, of dainty and slender ))ro])ortions, reached 
to the ceiling, each bedstead surmount(Ml by a bed 
of royal dimensions, white as the driv(>n snow, tliat 
no doubt owned the magic ])anacea of ])erhTt r(\st 
for humankind. A gi-and house then, it nuist be 
the same to-day. The best wish 1 hav(^ for it is 
that it may stand a cc^ntury longer, or as long as 
the world stands, for that matter; for the story it 
tells to the wayfarer is one that will bear r(^i)eating 
every day. 




AN OLD FISH-YARD 




AN OLD FISII-YAUD 




(JET a sniff of salt hroozo lhrou(i;h 
my window almost any hour of 
the day, for I do not livo far 
from the sea, and tlun-e often 
comes to mind a town that is 
very old; so old in fact, it some 
time since celebrated its cjuarto- 
decennial, for its settlement was 
' " almost coincident with that of 

good old Plymouth. This old town in its stripling 
clays had a ferry as it has now; nor was there anything 
strange in that, as the sea hennned it in on every side, 
unless one mentions a slender neck of land on its north- 
west corner; no doubt left there to keep it from alto- 
gether getting into the water. This ferry had a 
hmding-place, or slip, at the foot of what was then 
known as King Street, near what was once the site of 
its first settler's cornfield; a not important fact in itself, 
but interesting historically, as this scant allusion to it 
may assist the reader in locating long forgott(>n King 
Street, if the reader ever knew of King Street at all. 

197 



1*J8 y: h'OMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

South ol' this f)l(l I'crry l:ni(lin<i, now motanior- 
phoscd by the wharl'-buiklers into a coiiij)a(*t mass 
of oak pihiig and granite wall, with its rows of 
long, brown, iron-plated "bonded" warehouses of 
a certain great corporation of common carriers, is 
the Government House of Customs. Opposite, on the 
water-side of the broad strc^et which now faces the 
whole southerly water-front of a city, the island steam- 
ers take their passengers, the way to which is through 
a long narrow lane. At the head of this passageway 
is posted a sign, " Private way. Dangerous passing." 
What one woiild ordinarily regard as its meaning, is 
a query, w^ith so many people going up and down; 
unless one is to observe greater care in wending his 
way betw^cHMi its rows of low-eaved dusky-gray 
wooden buildings of the ancient rambling tumlile- 
down sort that hedge it so closely in. Tliis lane is 
odorous with the smells of the shipping and the wide 
docks. It is a savory odor when the fishermen have 
been out a day or two, and the tide has washed the 
slips clean ; for the harbor, of itself, is a wonderfully 
fresh and invigorating j)icture on a hot summer after- 
noon, with its white sails, its cool winds and dark 
emerald floods of salt sea-water. Everything luTe 
smacks of the sea, and sea-toggery. A half-score of 
shi])-chandlery shops line this narrow lane. Over 
the floors of their interiors are heaps of bright-look- 
ing tackle, anchors, huge cables, cordage, barr(>ls of 
tar, dirty and sticky-looking. There are roomy at- 
tics with low-sloping i-nfters, that hold up broad 
slated roofs, Iwio which ;ii'e set I'ows of s(|ua!'e win- 



¥'■■ ROMAXCE or CASCO HAY 199 

(knvs, iiiidcr which llic sail-iiiakors sil on (heir Hat 
benches all day l()n<:; and sew piles of snowy duck 
into whit(> wing;s for (he ships that have been brought 
round from their ways at Fisher's Point, or uj) from 
the liath shi{)-yai'ds. Here are fruitcivi's from the 
l^ermudas with their sails blown into tatters by some 
Chilf Stream tornado, so (|uietly moored within their 
docks, tliat one would hardly think of them as having 
sailed under the I'](|ua(()r, and ])erhaj)s around the 
world, at one time or anoth(>r. Through this thor- 
oughfare is the way of the tourist to the island boats. 
There is only a narrow ])lank walk foi' foot i)assen- 
gers, while in the lane, or alley, is barely room for one 
team to i)ass another; and when the st(vmiers come 
in from down the liay, one, who tries to make his 
way thitherward, experiences no inconsiderable jos- 
tling and elbowing, as everybody seems bent on get- 
ting up town in the shortest jiossible time. 

There is more even, than this, to attract one's at- 
tention as he gets into this odorous atmosphere. 
Lobster-houses open out ui)on this nai-row footway, 
where th(> pleasure-seeker for the day may l)uy a 
freshly boiled lobster for an outing lunch. In these 
damp, dirty shops the toothsome crustacean is boiknl, 
packed into barrels and boxes, and laI)ell(MJ for lV)s- 
ton. New York, and Ah)ntreal. IIundnMls of barrels of 
this delicious shell-fish are shij)|)e(l hence, every w(H'k 
throughout their season, so that the home market 
has hardly an alnmdant su))i)ly at any tim(\ A 
lobster-house is not an inviting ])lace to one inclined 
to neatness, for the floors are slijijK'ry with accunui- 



200 



y^-: ROMA.\'CH OF CASCO BAY 



hit ions of dirt and slime, though some of them are 
roaUy cleanly washetl every day, and drenched with 
the purest of water from an inland lake; but such a 
one is rath(>r the exception than the rule. 

Set in a low brickwork along the wall, are black, 
wide-mouthed kettles, into which the live lobsters are 
thrown for boiling as thev are taken from the lobster 




FISH HOUSES 



smack in the dock; and piled about the floor awaiting 
the "sorting"' ])rocess, are Inishels of boiled lobsters, 
the ruddy hues of which lend brilli;mcy to tlu^ dingy 
interior. Rarely does one see such l)eauty of color- 
ing as th(>s(> homely .^hell-fish exhibit in their coats, 
s])attered with the richest of tints, from a pale green 
to a most brilliant scarlet. From the open door at 
the rear of the shop one sees the entire dock, with 
its varied sailing craft. Some fishermen are empty- 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CAHCO BAY '1\)\ 

ing some salt-water tanks in tlic hold of a fishing- 
smack, that has just coino in from a trip down the 
coast. The lobsters, pulled up with long forks, two 
and three at a time, and thrown into big, scjuare bas- 
kets, are rapidly hoisted to the wharf, where the con- 
trast between these, so soberly clad in suitings of 
dun-colored olive-green, and those just from the 
boiling sea-water, rich in glowing color, is a marked 
one. 

" Fresh-b'iled lobster, sir? ))urty nigh outer th' 
last on 'em this year." 

From the bright light of a mid- August afternoon, 
into the damp cool shadows of this old shop, lighted 
only by its two low doors and a pair of dingy win- 
dows, is too al)rupt for the normal vision. The half- 
light of this interior has the cjuality of semi-opacity. 

"Have one, sir? No sof -shells in that heap," — 
and the old man who kept this place came forward 
from his background of Rembrandt browns, thumb- 
ing the ruddy back of a good sized specimen, as if to 
corroborate his assertion. 

"Getting scarce, are they?" 

"Lord bless yer! Ther's lobsters 'nuff, only th' 
law's on arter th' fifteenth." 

Straightening out the stoop in his shoulders slowly, 
and pulling and twisting his oiled overalls into jilace, 
a hardy, weather-l)eaten old salt, with a rim of gray, 
stubby beard around his chin, and above that a jiair 
of ruddy cheeks, and peering out over them, a pair 
of keen gray eyes that light up rather a pleasant fac(\ 
and over all a rustv black felt hat of a certain iion- 



202 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



descript style common among fishermen, my lobster- 
seller, apparently delighted, keeps on with his griev- 
ance : 

"It's nigh onter thirty year sence I took t' fishin', 
an' in them days there wuz hardly mor'n a half-dozen 
smacks riinnin' lobsters on the Maine coast; nowa- 
days, thor's nigh onter half a hiuured sail. I've 
heerd tell as haow there wuz two thousan' men an' 
as many bo'ts a-ketchin' lobsters fcr the fleet; 




A LOBSTER CANNERY 



but they're like t' pull the'r bo'ts up on the bank ef 
folks don't change th' law. I'm agin the law eny- 
how, fer the Province folk sentl the'r lobsters here 
free, w'en we can't ketch s'much as a crab; an' they 
allers come w'en they're least wanted. Why, I've 
seen thousan's o' lobsters shoveled overboard this 
very w'arf fer the want of a market. No need o' 
pertectin' the lobster. Natur' '11 take care ther's 
lobsters 'nuff. Can't ketch 'em all no mor'n yer can 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 203 

all tlio miis.sels an' clams. They ain't no fools, as 
any fishcn'man knows; an' the}''!! spawn an' hatch, 
an' spawn an' hatch, spite o' lobster-pots, cr law; for 
a single female of 'em percluces twenty thousan' aigs, 
an' finds a place for 'em in th' seaweed or rocks, er 
some'eres, Ther'll be lobsters 'nuff; but yer see th' 
trubble is, country folks don't know nuthin' 'bout 
'em. It jes' helps the cannin' folks, an' thet's all. 
]\Iy boy tells me ther's twenty-four hund'ed mile o' 
coast-line thet belongs t' the Stet o' Maine, but 't 
might be less, well 's more, fer the ketchin' o' lobsters 
fer a livin' from this aout. I tell yer, sir, 'taint right. 
I'm agin th' law. Git tin' a livin' anyway, 's preca- 
r'ous 'nuff; but ketchin' lobsters 'n the Stet o' Maine 
's precareser." 

From the southern boundary of this State, north- 
ward, is the fishing ground of the world, and here- 
abouts along the island shores are the homes of some 
of its most hardy fisher-folk. 

The summer voyager among the islands of this 
bay, will discover, here and there, odd-looking l)its of 
lattice-work among the rocks, or on the sands. They 
are the tools of the lobster-catcher that bring these 
toilers of the sea over a half-million dollars yearly. 
Anybody who has had a sniff of salt water along this 
coast, can tell you they are lobster-traps; homely, 
ungainly bits of handiwork, half-round, perhaps four 
feet in length, with slender slats nailed lengthwise, 
their ends covered with a netting of coarse wire, or 
hempen twine; and in this netting is an aperture 
through which the hungry crustacean enters after 



2U4 



y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



the bait so tempt injily displayed. Two men ii.^ually 
fjo ".snacks," handling from a single boat about two 
hundred traps or jmts, altogether. 

By daylight the tishermen are jnilling toward the 
lobster-grounds, most likely some sheltered cove, or 
narrow inlet that makes into the shore, here and 
there down the bay, their boat i)iled fore and aft 




THE LOBSTER GROUNDS 



and loaded to the water's edge with traps that are 
to be baited ami thrown ()verl)oard at intervals off- 
shore, where they remain over night, oi' until the 
lobster-cat chei's r(>turii foi' them. They are easily 
found by their ])ainteil tloats; and pulled up, one by 
one, their contents are enij)tied into the dory; the 
l)ait replenisheil. the traps sink out of sight. So 
these fishermen go, until every trap has been visitenl. 
Then they return home: unless, as is often the case, 
tlie\' have a camp under some of the island bluffs, 



r^' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY i^O") 

or al()ii<i tlicir yellow sands, when they take their 
booty to a lol)st{'r-('ar anchored somewhere in the 
iinincdiate vieinity, until a lobster-smack shall sail 
their way to take this ])roduct of the sea to market. 
So, through wet, and fog, and summer sunshine, these 
toilers ])ly their industry in the sea. 

Custom House wharf is a familiar ])lace, with its 
small steamer rubbing uneasily against its piling, 
grinding against its coating of barnacles, bobbing up 
and down as the tide, turning from ebb to flood, 
comes into the dock with a long heavy swell, setting 
agog the big ships moored against the coal-sheds 
o})j)osite. The sun-heat is at its flood on the slo))ing 
I'oofs, and the tremulous motion of the atmosphere 
is as ])lainly visible as is that of the water beneath 
us. The noisy juifhng of a hoisting-engine, lifting 
huge buckets of coal from the hold of a vessel close 
by, adds to the annoyances that seem always to beset 
one, with the mercury "rising" ninety, on the shady 
side of the house. A l)reeze comes from ''out in the 
stream'' that one wishes might Ijlow more pertina- 
ciously; but it has died away, smothered in a fhn-ry 
of dust along the street; and the air is more stifling 
yet. The people about the awning-sheltei-ed decks, 
scarce conceal their im])atieiice to l)e off and down 
the bay; but the boat lazily swings, and tugs at its 
moorings, as if its sole mission were to teach on- 
lookers the Philosophy of Indifference, foi- it seems 
no nearer starting than a (|uarter of an lioiu' ago. 

It is a mixed company one sees here: Canadians 
from as fai' west as ()ttawa and Toronto: islanders 



2()G Y'- ROMAXCE OF C'.l.SC'O BAY 

with their baskets and bundles — hale, hearty, bluff 
fellows as ever pulled a eod-line on the Banks] city 
people by the score, off for the afternoon; with a 
spriiiklinjj of fishcrnicn and coasting-men g'oinjj; to 
their vessels anchored in the adjacent "roads," while 
their seines are beinfi nnnided on the upland fields. 
A trio of youthful Italians, with a harp and two 
violins, begin a pot{)ourri of melody that puts every- 
body in more generous humor. These children from 
a far-off country, are shrewd, and keenly alive to the 
chance of getting a penny, or what is better, a nickel; 
and are apt to measure their modicum of really 
pleasing arias by such surface indications of wealth, 
or impecuniosity. as the audience may possess. The 
little fellow \\\\() brushes by me with a shabby \"iolin 
under his arm, jingling his handful of nickels and 
pennies in his brimless hat, with clothes rusty with 
ex})osure to rain and sun, has a warm heart, for his 
cheeks are flushed: and his eyes, l)ig and brown and 
sparkling with })leasm'e, lend a pi([uant l)eau1y to 
his olive-tinged face. Perhaps the stray, silver 
quarter di'opix'd into his old hat by th(> beautiful 
girl who leans idly against the fiagstatf has something 
to do with it. Now it is a gavotte: and the little 
fellow plays as if at a serenade under the soft moon- 
light of Italy's skies, and the generous girl wer(^ his 
innamorata, in tiiitli. Now it is one of Strauss's 
waltzes; and two liiile misses are making the most of 
these delightful slraiii<. 1 hai'dly know wiiich most 
to admire, the soft strains of the nuisic or the grace- 
ful nio\-ements of the children. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 207 

But there is a hint of starting. Some kite-coniing 
freight is hastily ])iit a!)()ar(l, and we shall l)e off a 
moment later. There is enough to see when one is 
tired of looking at his neighbors. Under the wharf 
great, lazy rats come out stealthily, and then scanii)er 
away with clumsy haste into the (•r(>vices in the 
granite walls, frightened perhaps by the pufhng of a 
tug that has come into the dock after a vessel, for 
it makes as much noise as if it had a Cunarder in 
tow. The white-winged gulls sweep by the end of 
the wharf, and the loosely-hanging sails of the ships 
about us, mirrored in the green waters l^elow, twist 
and bend into a multitude of intermingling sinuous 
hnes and shapes among the bits of brilliant color 
reflected from their hulls. The air is palpitating 
with unfamiliar sounds, and is thick with pungent 
smells. 

''All aboard!" 

A long shrill whistle, the lines are cast off, — first 
fore, then aft. A belated islander, market-basket in 
hand, hastens across the wharf, and with a dai'ing 
leap, lands safely on deck, — an episode that some- 
times ends differently. The steamer backs from her 
mooring-place, stopping occasionally, as if short of 
breath, but really to let some sailing vessel go by. 
Once in the stream, we make our way down the har- 
bor crowded with coasters, for the storm-signal is up, 
on the Government building, though the zenith is 
clear, with a copper-colored horizon to eastward. A 
queer-looking olTiect. which might l)e taken for a 
working model of Xoah's Ark, has just passed our 



208 



yi- HOMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



storn. It is a IVrry-boat, that, (les})ite its ungainly 
lines, is an improvement on the opposition line, 
especially if one wishes to take his horse and carriage 
along. The captain of the steamer has a great in- 
clination to blow, not his horn, but his whistle. 
Every steinn craft that comes within (>arshot is greeted 
with three ear-splitting blasts from somewhere over- 
head, and an answering triplet of shrieks comes in 
reply across the intervening waters. 1 notice with 







a conscious feeling of elation, that a steam yacht 
goes past without deigning to notice a hail that is 
growing monotonous, and. that is without nec(>ssity 
in broad daylight, with a haH'-mile of leeway and 
plenty of sea-room. 

With so many vessels going in and out, there are 
no pilot bo;its. rilolage is not com))ulsoi-v in these 
waters; so a shi|i!iiaster may jiilot his shi|) into i)ort 
without [)enalty oi' forfeiture. The hai'bor is so easy 
of access that few seafai'ers (iiid occasion for as- 



YE rWMAXCE OF CASCO BAY. 200 

sistance, tliouf2;h the English .steaiuors invariably 
take a pilot. For the matter of need, it might be 
asserted with the utmost truthfulness, that th(>re is 
hardly a coaster, or fishing-smack from this to Quoddy 
Head, but almost any one of its crew might bo de- 
pended upon, individually, to make port in the dark- 
est night, for the island roads are fairly broad and 
safe, and lead to Fore River, and the inner Cape shore. 
When a pilot is signaled from the outside^, the steve- 
dores draw lots to see which one shall go out after 
the vessel and pocket tlu^ commission, or pilotage; 
but the men who go })iloting, rarely have no more 
than their reputation to lose, and of which most of 
them are very proud. 

The steamer makes straight for a dumi)y, white 
light-tower at the end of the granite Breakwater, and 
on the port side, — 

"Are the black wharves and the slips," — 

over which the great West tuml:)les its products into 
the holds of immense European steamships; and a 
historic spot it is: for here, at the foot of India Stre(>t, 
ancient King Street that was, where the roundhouse 
of a Canadian railway now stands, is the site of old 
Fort Loyall of Colonial fame. The sunken ledges of 
Spring Point are close under our keel: and the Point 
itself is within a pistol shot: where the low, gray 
walls of Fort Preble, named for a famous conmio- 
dore, bask peacefully in the afternoon sun, which 
we might take to be deserteil, I)ut for the enlivening 



21(1 r-E ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

strains of the fort band that come to us over the 
water; and that brin<!; to mind the days when the 
fields, now in [)lain si<2;ht, were white with thousands 
of army tents. Recalling an episode of the Revolu- 
tion, it was no doulit in this near neighborhood that 
Captain Mowatt anchored the Canseau, the Cat, and 
two other small sloops one bright October morning 
in 1775, remaining until sundown, during which time 
he diverted hims(df with the burning of the old town, 
in which he was completely successful. 

One takes a backward look toward the city, with 
Mowatt's attack in mind, and the sites of two 
ancient landmarks are in \iew, as one follows the 
sky-line of the old town. One is westward, just above 
the jagged roofs of the I'almouth Hotel, and marks 
the site of the old Marston Tavern which stood on the 
easterly edge of old Market Siiuarc, on (he \\at('r 
side. Mowatt was detained for a short lime by Col. 
Thompson here, at the old tavern, as a prisoner. 
rerhai)s it was for that reason, that the guns of the 
Canseau were trained so destructively upon the old 
hostelry. The old tavern was the place of l)ooking 
for all the stages out of Falmouth, or until the I'^lm 
Tavern was built, which was about 1S26. In the 
course of time the old hostel had served its ends as 
a place of entertainment, and the huge chimney 
amidships was demolished, and with it went the 
ancient association of its like huge open fires, where 
the cocked hats of the town had wagged their gossip, 
or fulniinat(Ml their anathemas against the 1-Jiglisli 
oppression, for almost three generations. In the 



YE ROMAXCE OF CASCO BA Y 



211 



brickwork of the great chiiuney was found one of 
IMowatt's shot. It was a companion to others that 
on that same eighteenth of Octolxn-, 1775, went 
crashing through the waUs of the big hous(>. If one 
has a curiosity to see the old tavern, one will find it 
on the south side of State 
Street, next above the inter- 
section of York. 

Running along the sky-line 
to eastward, just beyond the 
green domes of Lincoln Park, 
on the corner of Hamj^shire 
and Congress streets, was the 
old tavern of Mistress Alice 
Greele. It was even more 
renowned than the Marston 
hostel. It was the favorite 
stopi)ing-place of the trapper, 
the farmer, and the lumber- 
man. Of course it had a 
cosey tap-room. Such was 
an important adjunct of all 
inns of the time; and that 

of Mistress Greele's must have been crowneil with 
warmth and good cheer. Its landlady was famous 
as a chef, but her cooking was nothing to her 
heroism as the red-hot shot from Mowatt's fleet 
hurtled through the autumn sunlight, and straight 
toward this old tav(>rn. Of the buildings that 
overlooked the bay that October morning, four 
hundred anil fourteen had l)een l)urne(l during the 




SITE OF GREELE S TAVERN 



212 



YE ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



day's bomliardiiu'iit. The Groclo Tavern escaped the 
general destriietion, but not thronfj;!! any loyalty its 
habitues felt for it, iov, when Mowatt's little fleet 
opened fire, there was a general exodus from town; 
but Mistress Aliee Cireele remained behind. I'nlike 
Mrs. Partington and her l)r()(.m, Mistress (Ireek^ 




THE OLD ELM TAVERN 



eaught her \vater-j)ail and dipper, and began ihe 
patrol of her tavern. W'herevei' a spark apjieared, 
the water flew; and so she fought the English. She 
saved her house, which was, doulitle.ss, all she pos- 
ses.sed : and her name was adde(l 1o the list of heroic 
women of the time. 

Here, incoming and outgoing tide meet, making 



YE ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 213 

a heavy swell. The boat is soon withhi the shelter 
of House Island, where the l)ay is as smooth as an 
inland pond, with here and there a white-cap where 
the wind bears down a bit too hard on the water. 
Over the grassy parapets of Fort Scammell, an un- 
completed fortification that occupies half of the 
island, the summer winds and the shadows of flying 
clouds run riot. The huge derricks stand stark, 
gaunt, and usek^ss in the sunlight. Piles of granite 
obstruct its approaches, and its beautifully designated 
portals will midoubtedly remain unfinished memen- 
tos of the past. Its gray, forsaken bastions, with 
their closed ports, the huge guns lying unmounted, 
and in peaceful solitude along their tops, make better 
Songs of Peace than are written with the pen. There 
was once a blockhouse stockade here that was kept 
in repair by the government for many years; and 
here too was an ancient burying-ground of the In- 
dians, remains of whom were found in a fair state 
of preservation by the builders of Fort Scamnicn. 
The story-and-a-half cottage of the sergeant who 
watches over Uncle Sam's interests in this vicinity, 
and the comfortable homes of three families, over- 
look the Ijay from its uplands, and, 

"Blown out and in l)y suiiiiiicr .ualcs, 
The stately ships with erowdecl sails 
And sailors leaniiiii" o'er the rails." — 

Had one the vision of C()l)t)ler Keezar and his 
magic lapstone, one could see more than heaji-^ of 
faced granite, and unfinished scarp; or, even, with 



214 



r^ ROMA^X'E OF CASCO BAY 



"the gift of the Mormon's goggles 
Or the stone of Doctor Dee," — 

cdukl one crowd out tlio present aiul o])eii up the 
old, these walls of Scaiiimell would be as a him, a 
shell, within which was another and more ancient 
place of refu<2;e, or rather an old wooden l)lockhoiise, 
a rude defense which stood for years, before, a suf- 
ficient menace to untoward intrusion, and an abun- 
dant protection against active 
aggression. It is difficult to 
say when this earlier structure 
waslniilt; but it was a stur- 
dily-built affair, with walls of 
■foiirteen-inch pine, and oak 
timbers, }^inned and dowelled 
together, solidly. It was 
octagon in shape, supplied 
w i t h embrasures, pintle- 
blocks, and gun-circles for 
four gims. The magazine 
was of brick, and its upper 
story, for it was a double-decked affair, projected 
over the lower, and was pierced with loop-holes for 
musketry. 

Around all this was a stout stockade of cedar. It 
was allowed to stand for several years after the new 
lines of Scannnell were constructed; but that was in 
1808, and five years later Fort Scamniell had been 
completed according to the then existent plans. No 
vestige of the blockhouse has existed for many years. 




SCAMMELL 



YE ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 215 

Scamniell, as a defense against modern armaments, 
would be more destructive to its inmates than oi)en 
exposure to the hottest fire of an assault; b\it House 
Island is now Government property ; and dirt instead 
of stone, unobtrusive hummocks of bending grasses, 
mildly suggestive of pastoral delights, instead of 
granite angles, and low-browed bastions, and glower- 
ing ports, will meet the scrutiny of the curious. 

This island holds a pleasing prominence in the early 
history of this part of the Maine coast, for it is un- 
doubtedly a fact that here Christopher Levett, who 
sailed hith(>r from York, England, in the days of 
James I. built the first house to grace the shores of 
Casco. This was some five or six years before the 
coming hither of George Cleeve from Scarborough to 
begin anew his pioneer life along the low shores of 
Stogummor; and had Levett's house been standing, 
as one has reason to believe it was, it may have been 
for this alone that Cleeve planted his Casco roof- 
tree where he did, for House Island was but a short 
distance down the bay; and Levett's house was 
doubtless, easily discernible. Levett held his house 
in short occupancy; but it is recorded that after his 
abandonment of it, it was frequented by other toilers 
of the sea, who used it for temporary shelter, and its 
surrounding slopes for the partial drying of their 
catches of cod and haddock taken from the neigh- 
boring waters. Casco Bay was the scene of much of 
this early activity in fishery, and was much fre- 
quented by the English fishermen. Likewise, curi- 
osity, among the Old World dw(^llers, was actively 



216 yp^ HOMASCE OF CASCO BAY 

ixgog as to ^vll:lt transpired in this land of continually 
new discoveries; and the word went from mouth, to 
mouth, with a remarkaljle celerity, the Gospel of 
Commerce. It is to this lively interest we owe most 
of what has come to us throufjh the increasing lapse 
of years, and of the annals of these early doings along 
our New England coast. 

The coming of Levett was some eighteen years 
after the voyage of de Monts and Chami)lain along 
this coast; and perhaps it is fortunate that so beau- 
tiful and attractive a spot should have escaped the 
scrutiny of so excellent an observer as C'hami)lain. 
Had it been otherwise, it is safe to assume that here 
would have been a French settlement, and the his- 
tory of the later p]nglish settlements, especially around 
Massachusetts Bay, would have recordetl a much 
more strenuous experience than fell to the lot of the 
Puritans. The detour of Champlain up the Sheep- 
scot, possibly as far as what is now ^\'iscasset, under 
the direction of Panounias, a Mt. Desert Indian, is 
doul)ly suggestive of the adventurous and curious 
disposition of this French explorer. Surely, no more 
promising or s(^ductive array of woods and waters, 
snugly ensconced, and capable of natural defense, 
could be found .■^outh of the .'^t. Lawrence: and 
the climate was certainly more e(|uable and easily 
withstood when the inclement days of wiiitcM" came 
with the southern-going suns. Asa base of sui)))li(\'^, 
it would hav(> l)een incomi)arable. Champlain would 
have discei'ned all this, and here would ha^■e l)een 
the nucleus of the I'rench ( )c('Upation. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 217 

As it was, Levott was the first to attempt a settle- 
ment of this particular part of the coast. Richmon 
Island, the "Bacchus" Island of tie Monts, first oc- 
cupied by George Richmon, from Randon-on-the- 
Bridge, Ireland, and the scene of the Bagnall tragedy, 
was but slightly its senior in occui)ancy. Richmon, 
of an adventurous disposition, and of a somewhat 
roving character, is said to have built a small vessel 
here, which he loadcnl with fish and furs, setting 
sail for England; but he was lost on the homeward 
voyage. After iiis departui'c from this island, he 
became, like West brook of later colonial fame, simply 
a human landmark along the way to its later civi- 
lization. 

Before the coming of Richmon, Ca])t. John Smith 
had cast his lines into the teeming deeps hereal)out. 
Other adventurous voyagers had filled their ships with 
its treasure of the sea, or filled their wide-spread 
sails with its bracing winds, hastening their pace for 
"merrie England," their holds stuffed with choice 
pelts ol)tained of the natives along the coast adjacent. 

According to the annals of these early voyagers, 
de Monts and Champlain were here in July of 1605; 
and it was about 1623, seven years before Cleeve 
went to Scarborough, that Levett made his voyage 
hither, touching first at the Isle of Shoals, and after 
that, at the mouth of the Saco, where he first saw the 
"Crystal Hills," the Wcniwhck Mdhnn of the abo- 
rigine. He evidently did not find the basin of the 
Saco to his mind, for h(> kept on along the coast 
until he had passed through the southerly roadstead 



218 



yi' h'OMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



of Casco Bay, into the mouth of Fore River, Avhich 
was about two leagues from ''Quack,^' so named 
after a Saco sagamore, and whieh comprised the 
mainland now known as (ape Klizalx'th, a more 
roy;d and euphonious cognomen. 

Doubtless in those days the low shores of tlu^ Cape 
from Portland Head, following the trend of Simon- 




PORTLAND HEAD 

ton Cove, were garnished with dens(> deciduous 
growths; unless, ])erhai)s, the ledges, that now make 
the Breakwater foundation, broke the green waters, 
sea-serpent-like, with here and tlicre a glimps(> of its 
ragged spine, black ;iiid serrate, where now the 
slow lengths of bort I'rcble show a narrow strip of 
gray above the yellow sands; and higher up, in the 
middle distance, are the multi-colored villas daintily 
ensconced, — 

" 'iiioiij; lh(> cinUow'riiiii trees." 



Y!'^ nOMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 219 

Levott clr()])pe(l his anchor in the river to which 
he gave his name. That he was tlehghtecl with the 
locahty is certain, for not long after he ac({uire(l the 
right to set up a i)hintation at "Quack.'' That he 
made an extended visit hereabout is Hkewise certain, 
for, he says, in his rehition of his voyage, — "I 
sailed to Quack or York, with the king, queen and 
princes, bow and arrow, dog and kettle, in my boat, 
his noble attendants rowing by in their canoes," — 
the first voyage of state in these regions of which 
there is mention. Here at York, he says he found 
ships from Weymouth, Englantl, the crews of which 
were storing their vessels with fish. When Levett 
told the Indian queen these Englishmen were his 
acquaintances, she bade him welcome them to her 
country and "drank to them." What this vehicle 
of goodwill and affection was, is wholly a matter of 
conjecture. Levett does not say. It must have Ijeen 
palatable, for "she drank also to her husband, and 
bid him welcome to her country, too; for you nuist 
understand that her father was the sagamore of this 
place, and left it to her at his death, having no more 
children. And thus, after many dangers, much labor 
and great charge, I have obtained a place of habita- 
tion in New England, where I have built a house 
and fortified it in a reasonable and good fashion, 
strong enough against such enemies as are these 
savage people." 

One Phijipen is said to have l:)een the first authentic 
occupant of House Islanil. He carried on a fish-yard 
here, but bought land on Cape Elizabeth in IGoO; 



22() }'/^- ROMAXCH OF CASCO BAY 

and it is prohaMc that he later located periiiaiieiitly 
on the iiiainlaiid. A local annalist sa^'s, referring to 
J'liippen's occupancy of this island, "hut theiv must 
have been a pre\"ious settler; as in J()(')3, San!|)son 
I'enley le\'ied an execution against PhipjM'n, upon 
one-(iuarter of the islands, half of the old liouse, and 
all of the new house, togetlier with half of the stages." 

Levett's house nuist have been built of logs, with 
cobl)led corners: a most substantial aifaii'. after the 
fashion of the eai'ly setth^i': and it is fa'i' to infei', in 
the absence of othei' record, that this "nld house'' 
in which I'hippen was allege<l to ha\'e had an attach- 
able interest, was the one constructed by Levett. 

No bettei- evidence ih.an this can l)e had that 
Levett built him a house; and it is as c(^rtain that 
House Island was so called because of its distinguish- 
ing landmark, — the lious(^ that J.(^vett built, — and 
no doubt the island was chosen by reason of its iso- 
lation by its en\-ironing waters, and the additional 
security to be dei-i\'ed from so favoral)le a situation. 
The next year, \iV2\. Le\-elt sailed for luigland, not 
however without lea\ing a guar<l of ten men behind, 
and with the probable i)ui'pose that they should en- 
gage in the imi)rov(Mnent of his new estate. I-'rom 
this, he must have intended to I'eturn. It is unfor- 
tunate that he was unable to do so, for he was, for 
the times, a \\ise and tempei'ate man, conciliating in 
his policy towaril the nati\-es: ac(|uii'ing his territory 
of se\-eral thousand ;icre> b\- juirchase from the 
Sagamore who owned it. I'A'ideiitly his ambitions 
were large, ;ind his \-iews of the futvu'c, sanguine. 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 221 

He had ill iiiiiid a populous settlement, after the 
fasiiion of his own l''nii;lisli York. He was of the 
ri<;ht sort of nu>tal; hut like (iorjics, and others who 
followed after, other hands wei'e to reap the harvest. 
Onee in I']ii<2;]and, he found affairs unsettled. The 
royal aid he had a ri^ht to exi)ect never came. The 
rupture with Spain, the intrin;ues of Buckingham, 
warlike preparations, internal dissensions, the plague, 
and finally the death of King James, [jrecluded the 
realization of Levett's brilliant scheme of coloniza- 
tion of (asco Bay. England and France were at 
serious odds over boundaries, and sovereign rights, 
and grants to the country east of the middle Maine 
Pr()vinc(>; l)ut as late as 1627, Levett, still persever- 
ing in the face of great discouragements, had so pre- 
vailed with Charles 1. that the latter had ordered 
the churches at York to contribute toward the build- 
ing of tlie new city across the Atlantic and near the 
domain of the former, and which was to l)e called 
York. Charles was undoubtedly actuated to do so 
much as this, that a nucleus might be formed to off- 
set tlie growing influence of the Puritan colony on 
Massacluisetts Bay. Whatever may have been the 
financial results of Charles' interest in the matter, a 
year later, we find Levett enveloped in that opacity 
of oblivion which becomes c()m])lete under the hard- 
ening process of the accumulating centuries. 

The last reference to Levett, is through Cleeve, from 
whom we have it that Levett, conveyed his Casco 
property to "one A\right," and furth(^r, that he, 
Cleeve, bought the Wright title to suj^port his own 



222 Y^ ROMA^'CE OF CASCO BAY 

against the claims of \\'inter under the Trelawney 
grant. One might be exceeding curious as to the 
fate of the stewards of the Levett vinej^ard, but 
their story is lost in the wrecking of their master's 
ambitions. They drifted, no doubt, to other settle- 
ments, or niayhai) lived among the natives. There 
was Richmond Island not far away, a day's trail 
IK'rhaps along the Cajn' shore, and k^ss than that 
across country; and the English fishermen were com- 
ing and going; and southward, reaching along the 
coast to Cape Cod, were here and there the slender 
footholds of their own race. Like other adventurers 
of thos(> v'dvW days, they may have been caught up 
on the winds of adversity, and sw(>pt, like the dust 
of the highway, into intangil)ility. 

At the time of Cleeve's coming hither, there is no 
mention of any house on the Xeck, or adjacent thereto. 
Ibid there been such, the legal contest between 
Cleeve and A\'inter wouM have de\'eloped the fact; 
but such a structure on House Island would have 
attracted no attention, as Hou.se Island does not 
appear to have centered the controversy. This latter 
island is of considerable area. Its slopes are easy and 
inclined to the south and west; and apparently of fair 
([uality as tillage land; but the fishing intere.'^t pre- 
dominateil; and for years the low-i'ooh'd, white 
house of the Treh^thren family has looketl landward 
across the inner bay, and over the reef long crowned 
by the granite ]»ile of old lOrt (loi-ges. Trefethren's 
has been a fish-yard sincc^ the memory of man; l)ut 
like all else, the nmlations of Time, and Change, 



YE KOMA^X:E OF CASCO BAY 



99':» 



have left only the old white house, and the rottmg 
wharves, as the vestiges of a former importance. A 
small fortune was accumulated here; for at one time 
the fishery trade of this Bay was worth annually 
nearly two millions of dollars. A half-million quin- 
tals of cured fish were shii)i)ed from here annually, 
and the mackerel pack axcraged near one hundred 
thousand barrels for the same tim(\ To this might 




TREFETHREN S 



be added the herring and lobster catch, which was a 
business of ec^ual importance and value. 

In those days the eastern slopes of the island were 
covered with fish-flakes that gave to them the sem- 
blance of a gray shed-roof of enormous dimensions. 
Down by the water were the cobble-wharves that 
are there to-day, and the neatly whitewashed store- 
houses flank the runs that led up to the flakes. Al- 
most always, in season, one could see a "Banker" 



•224 y: ROMAXCK OF CASCO BAY 

unloailiiiii; her catcli. In the ailjoiniiifz; slips, or on 
the shelving;" l)oacli, three or four " smacks" are 
heeled j)artly over with the lide on the (>bb; but the 
little steamer has bumped ajiainst tiie end of the 
old wharf, and 1 clamber ashore. Then it drifts 
awav, to head across the channel for 'Mones's," one 
of the embryo watering-places of local celebrity, 
hereabout. 

Although it all happened years ago, let me tell it 
as if it were a visit of to-day. I listen, and the voice 
of long ago comes back, — a voice as T remember it, 
that seems to have the (luallty of a sea-water pickle, 

"Look c/oul thar, mister!" 

Turning (juickly, 1 barely avoid a wheelbarrow 
load of half-cured fish that is being steered down the 
slopes of the fish-yard, and across the slippery wharf 
into the storc^houses. 

"Beg pard'n, Cap'n. Ye see th(^ rain's comin', 
an' these ere fish nuist be gut under kiver. A black 
clnoud in th' west like thet yender, wi" a stiff s'utherly 
breeze t" coa.\ 't daown th' bay, iz a sure sign o' 
wet." 

Here the islander tipju'd his shap(>l(>ss sloueli hat 
back to take a look at the wooden fish whittled out 
of a pine shingle, no doubt by some youthful Yankee, 
and that playe(l weather-cock on the gable of the 
nearest fish-house. A .^(luint at the darkening dome 
of the tluHider-gust that had already hidden the sun, 
a spurt of tobacco juice, an ominous shake of the 
head, and my man trumlles his wheelbarrow up the 
slope, muttering to himself, '" "t may. an' "t mayn't." 



Y'-^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 225 

The work ^^oos on hiin'icMlly. The fish on the Hakes, 
the dryest, are piled upon the big wheelbarrows and 
run down the hill into the houses on the wharf, the 
men hardly stopping to wii)e the drii)i)ing sweat from 
their faces, so great is their haste, with the shower 
close upon them. There is a low nnittering of thun- 
der as the wind dies down, while the sea is like a 
mirror, so still and breathless is the air above it. 
The sea-gulls have disappeared; only the swallows 
dip and skim over the flats, and up the island slopes, 
and over their crest to the parapets of the old fort, 
to wheel al)out shar])ly, and again sweep down jiast 
the men among the fish-flakes, with never a whistle, 
or shrill note to disturb the brooding c[uiet, to scour 
the flats again for their winged food. How silent 
and majestic, this approach of the black cloud bear- 
ing down its sullen weight upon the city roofs, and 
crowding along the edge of the mainland! The sails 
of the vessels in the offing, hang limp and spiritless, 
flapping mayhap with some fugitive gust that has 
ridden out in advance of the windy cohorts of the 
storm; but mark the colors of the sky! Huge snow- 
banks of massed cloud seem always to be on the 
point of rolling down the steeps of this black preci- 
pice of vapor, creviced with such jagged seams of 
flame. On either side, the sky is of a rich metallic 
brilliancy, gleaming like the softest lustre of tur- 
c^uoise, with just a tender hint of emerald about it; 
as if it had caught some faint reflection of the trees 
and fields that lay so breathless below. One can 
hear the roar of the wind now; and the dust, like a 



22G 



yi" ROMA.XCE OF CASCO BAY 



low cloud of smoke, rolls off tho land into the sea. 
^^'hat a cool sound it is, so full of moisture and 
shadow! 

The men work on, wheelin<2; the dryer fish into these 
low-roofed whitewashed storehouses, piling the more 
moist into heaps of a dozen or more along the hem- 
lock hoards of the fish-flakes, covering them one after 
another with a simple device — two short boards 
nailed V-f ashion — which affords 
effectual shelter during the 
heaviest rain-storm. 

A few l)ig drops come patter- 
ing down; that is all. The 
"heft" of the shower has crept 
eastward l)y the mainland, but 
the work is over for the day, 
">' among the flakes. There will 

be no more showers to-day and 
the sun is too low down in the sky to be of any 
more service in the fish-yard. If to-nioi'row dawns 
clear, the flakes will be covered with cod and hake 
before the dew is well off the grass. 

It is an interesting process, this curing of the fish 
that have come from the far-away Xewfoundland 
Banks. Here is a schooner that has arrived from 
the Banks to-day. Her sails are mildewed and tat- 
tered; her spars are gray and weather-worn with so 
much of fog and storm, but her lines are as graceful 
anvl beautifully drawn as if she had been built for 
yachting, instead of fishing along the (Jrand l^anks. 
"Han'sum, ain't she? Tuk tirjtrizc in the schooner 




r^' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 2Ti 

race two years ago. She's been t' the Gran' Banks 
this five year, an' has alius bin lucky. Some air 
lucky, an' sum ain't ; some git good fares, an' some 
doan't pay thar dockin '.'" 

It is the owner of the wharf who has accosted me. 

" Rather an uncertain way by which to get one's 
living. I should say." 

" Wall, yis, 'pears so; but some on 'em git well off; 
more doan't. It's like enything else. Depen's on 
the man summat. I alius tho't the man made the 
chance. I tell ye w'at 'tis, Mister, ther's folks an' 
folks; ther's smart ones, an' them az ain't s' smart. 
Them ez is alius in debt an' spen's ez fast ez they go, 
an' a \eet\e bit faster, '11 never git on nohow. I've 
hearn tell on a feller ez wuz called Franklin, who 
saved half 'is airnin's, ef 'twarn't mor'n tupence a 
day; but the most o' the men ez goes in the Bank- 
ers air too gen'rous t' save 'a dollar, an' th' lawyers 
gits arter 'em wi' trustees an' sich like; so, 'twixt 
one thing, an' anuther, an' the big prices they lies t' 
pay fer ther hooks, an' lines, an' ile-clo'se, an' ther 
drinks, ther's nuthin' left fer the folks t' hum. .My 
'sper'ence is, a man lies t' hev er mean stre'k, er 
som'thin' mighty nigh outer it, t' git fore-handed." 

"Wat time do they git away t' the Banks? Most 
on 'em lay in ther salt an' t)ait, thet is, stock the ves- 
sel, so ez ter git away 'bout the fust o' Aprel. It's 
'a thousan' mile ter the Gran' Banks; an' it's a' tol- 
'able smart vessel thet gits thar in ten days, with 
fogs 'n icebergs alius in the way, an' steam craft t' 
look aout fer day an' night. Thar's danger 'nuff in 



228 



}'A' ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



th' best o' weather U:v th' schooner ez goes ther three 
t' four months nrtcr .^7/// /(ires. 

"Haow nieny go in sich a craft ez this ere? W'al, 
sum'tinies nior, an' sum'tinics less. Urn, twelve t' fif- 
teen's 'a fair crew, with 'a dory t' each man: an', 
when they git thar, the men go aout inter th' mist an' 
fog thet comes dr/own wi" the icebergs, clay arter day, 







"-•^i*? 



\:^^ ^^/^' 






A BANKER 



sawin' away et the rail o' the dory with a big co(,l- 
linc with a hook an' clam on the end on't. Sum'- 
tinies the fog settles dc/own s' thick the men can't 
find the schooner. A New F'un'lan' fog hain't t' be 
griimed et ; an' tliar's hai'dl}- 'a day goes by, but 
tliar's rain, an' sleet, an' mist. Wen 1 used t" go t' 
the Banks, arter the day's fishin', all ban's 'd turn 



yi^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 2'29 

tew, an' dress the fish. A\'e used t' be mighty quicl< 
'bout 't. Didn't hev no loafin' 'n oour crew. "\A''en 
we gut 'em all split an' dn^ssed we {)at'ke(l 'cm away 
'n the hold, pilin' the salt outer the fish 1' kcc|) 'em 
'tell the ]are wuz full, w'en we'd set sail fcr hum, 
gittin' dr/own 'ere sum'eres 'bout th' fust o' August.'' 

It is a life of danger, and the men who engage in it 
are keenly alive to the fact: but there are few salt- 
water enterprises that engage the attention of a 
hardier, or more intelligent class of New Englanders 
than this. 

Here the fish, sodden with salt, are being thrown 
from the hold of the schooner to its deck with a 
])itchfork, such as the inland farm(>r uses in his 
haying field; and are thence taken to the wharf, 
where they are thoroughly washed in largo tubs of 
sea-water. Well-rinsed, they are thrown into large 
l)iles, backs down, — Jcojlclted — and left a day or 
so to flatten, after which they go to the flakes to dry. 
A few days of bright sunshine, with an off-shon^ wind, 
prepares them for the storehouse, where, closely 
packed fi-om floor to ceiling, th(>y go through the 
".suw////^f/" process which occui)ies about fifteen days. 
The last drying follows, for which, one clear windy day 
suffices; and the white, tender codfish of the market 
and grocery-store is ])acke(l away for shipment. In the 
dull, heavy atmosi)here of "Dog-days" the fish, not 
infrequently, rot on the flakes, tho' the sim shines 
never so l)rightly. This is the " linhf-saUiiu/'' method ; 
but the greater part cured hereabout, are " Iieary- 
salted,'' which require less time and labor, and are 



'23(1 YE h'OMAXCE OF CASrO BAY 

darker in color. ]t is healthy, vifjoroiis work about 
the fish-yards, and the men have the breezy out-of- 
door air that is characteristic of their callino;. It is 
not sin<iular that fish-yards have been of ancient 
repute here; for, among these islands was the favorite 
ffshing-gnnuid of the savages, whos(> campfires, burn- 
ing for the most part far inland, wer(> lighted once a 
year, and the smokes of their wigwam fires blew out 
to sea with the autumn mists, while their dusky 
dwellers went to their fishing in this realm of Nature's 
silences. 

Among the earliest who came into this section of 
the counti-y was Henry Jocelyn. His brother John 
came over fiom England and a reception was given 
to him; and among the quaint memoranda in his 
journal is his description of the occasion, reproduced 
here, as it referred mostly to an incident said to have 
occurred in this immediate vicinity. "At this time,'' 
June 26th, 1639, "we had some neighboring gentle- 
men in our house who came to welcome me into the 
country, where, amongst a vai'ietyof discourse, they 
told me of a young lion not long before killed at 
l'iscata(iua, by an Indian; of a sea-serpent or snake 
that lay coilfMl up hkc a cable upon a rock at Cape 
Ann; a boat ])assing by, with two English al)oard 
and two Indians, they ^\■ould ha\'e shot the sci'pent 
but the Indians dissuaded them, saying that if he 
were not killed outright they would all be in danger 
of their lives. One Mi'. Mil ton related of a Triton 
or Merman, which he saw in Casco Bay; th(^ gentle- 
man was a <rreat fowler and used to go out with a 



yf^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



231 



small boat or canoe, and fetching a compass about 
a small island, there being many islands in the bay, 
for the advantage of a shot, he encountered a Triton, 
who, laying his hand upon the side of the canoe, 
had one chopped with a hatchet by ^Ir. Mitton, 
which was in all respects like a man. The Triton 
presently sank, dyeing the water with his purple 
blood ami was no more seen." 

These story-tellers must have enjoyed themselves 
hugely at Jocelyn's expense, whose imagination no 
doubt kept even pace with his credulity; and no doubt 
many a group of wide-eyed English children listened 
to these w^onderful tales from the New Land, when 
John Jocelyn sailed back across the sea in his old- 
fashioned sailing-vessel, to his old-fashioned English 
fireside. It is not to be wondered at, that New 
England owns so many good story-tellers nowadays, 
when her early settlers could show themselvcvs so apt 
at romancing;. 




_ ^ mill'' 



OLD MOUNTJOY'S ISLAND 



-^ 











OLD MOUNTJOY'S ISLAND 




rHOVEoff, man!" 

A half-mile from these old fish- 
yards on House Island, across a 
narrow ocean roadstead, and a 
short two miles eastward from 
ancient Poodack, is what was once 
old Momitjoy's Island. There 
was a stone house here two hun- 
dred years ago, a place of refuge from the Indians, 
no traces of which exist at the present time. The 
place of its standing is a mystery. On an ebb tide, a 
strong current runs out this narrow water-way by 
famous White Head, and, as my ferry-man sets me 
across, every dip of his port oar throws the salt spray 
into the dory and about my shoulders, with a sensa- 
tion of increasing moisture, for the wind has fresh- 
ened since the shower, and the channel is covered 
with white-caps. 
Here, is "Jones's." 

I toss my ferryman a silver coin, which he tests 
with his teeth, and, with a movement expressive of 

235 



236 



l'^- ROMANCE OF CASCO HAY 



satisfaction, he (lr()))s it into what, in its ncwci- days, 
was a shot-bag, which, puckered, and twistiMl, and 
tied with a sin<;-le string, he thi'usts into liis baggy 
trousers, to push oflsliore with a broad smile on his 
face, and a ''Thankij, sii'!" rolling off his Yankee; 
tongue. 

"Jones's '' was once a heterogenous conuuunity, a 
semi-populous one at certain seasons of the year, and 




at certain times of the d;iy. which one realized as, leav- 
ing the stubby-nosed \\h;irf, he cHmbed lh(> steej), 
ungraded foot-way, i'ain-guHie(|, and strewn with loose 
j)ebbles, to a sloping gi'eenswai'd littered wiiii bits 
of torn paper and the di'bris nf lunch-baskets; for 
here was a grouj) of ancient ;ipple-trees, with some 
benches uiiiler them, that wei'e occupied, most of the 
time in suimy weathei", by youngish folk of (lirta- 
tious tendencies, who o<rle(l and iri-imaced with \*arN'- 



YE ROMAXCE OF CASCO HAY 237 

ing (logroos of sucfcss, to tho groat aniuscincnt of 
grown-up people. 

It was a sloveiily-kei)t gnM'ii, with only the wind 
to sweep it every afternoon. 

I quer}' whether this may be the jilace I knew 
some years before, with all these affairs of booths 
and Iniildings, crowding about its gateway. 

Reaching the single island street, I find the same 
old incomparable pictures that Nature paints in 
June to hang against the sky. 

"Jones's" has aspirations. It will tell you. if >'ou 
let the native play oracle, that here is to be a second 
Mont Desert; but don't for the world look incredu- 
lous; he b(^lieves it, as does every other nati\'e who 
has a plat of land to sell. Taking boarders, or ply- 
ing some catch-penny occupation makes up its sum- 
mer enterprise; l3ut the growth of the place as a 
summer-resort, has come more l)y reason of the charm- 
ing outlooks from its hill-tops, its cool, invigorating 
winds, its ])old shores and salt water environment, 
than l)y any good wit of its resident ])opulation, or 
the generosity of the city of which it is a j)art: for 
its artificial attractions are all in the line of dinie 
shows, and like enterjorises, to lure transient patron- 
age. 

The land is mostly in the hands of the old settlers, 
who dislike to i)art with a parcel, here or there, and 
who dream of fal)ulous prices. It is a vain dream, 
with only a single thoroughfare along its cityward 
side, hardly equal to some country roads I have in 
mind, — a few weeks of limited acconnnodation in 



238 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



summer, a dance-hall, a roller-coaster, and a monkey- 
garden, with a dime opera house and the consequent 
hubbub. But get away from this artificiality, and 
summer life here has the charming cjuaiity of natu- 
ralness and rest fulness; or it had, some years ago, 
when I spent a summer tramping over its w^oodland 
paths, its fields, and along its rocky shores after an 
idle fashion; or rowing from one island to another. 








AN OLD SE'l TLEK 



digging a basket of clams one day, and on another 
shooting a bag of plover for a pot-pie, either of which 
are toothsome enough to tempt an ei)icurean, with 
their fresh, juicy, gaiiicy flavor. 

Strolling over the b(\iches in June, one sees broad 
lines of yellow along their pale sands as the tide 
creeps slowly out. Tt crumbles Ix'twecn the tingcM's 
like a jHtwdcr. ;tnd is the cause of much s])cculation 
as to its oi'igin. The natives insist that it is suli)hur; 



yj^ ROM AXLE OF CASCO BAY 239 

and that it comes from the chffs on Chebeague, but 
the naturahst knows better. It is the yellow pollen 
of the ox-eyed daisy that makes the fields of the 
mainland white all smnmer long. It is very notice- 
able some years. Sometimes the water is covered 
with it, as with a yelloW' scum. 

A trip city-ward on a June morning is a treat never 
to be forgotten b}^ the lover of the picturescjue. The 
mainland, not over a league away, is a broad streak 
of rich, warm tones, and above this is as blue a sky 
as one can imagine, a cloudless west in truth; and 
over the bay a light, thin vapor, a filmy diaphanous 
mist, rises from the waters to a level of two or three 
feet; and there it hangs, wavering with tremulous 
hesitancy until the sun has drunk it up, when the 
sea is an immense emerald-tinted mirror, within 
which every object above it is reproduced with a 
marvellous distinctness. The island shores are 
touched with high lights, and dented with deep shad- 
ows; and the city, a league aw-ay, is just a bit blurred 
and softened by the smoke of its countless chimneys. 
The quiet is absolute; and over all is the fairest, 
mellowest of summer skies. If the morning is de- 
lightful, the return at sundown is not less so, or less 
refreshing. Leaving town as the shadows of its gray 
walls creep out over the docks, huge masses of dusky 
house-roofs lean against a wall of gold, with every 
spire, tower, and gable silhouetted against the glory 
beyond. It is a rare grouping of sombre tones and 
shadows in the middle-ground, draw^n sharply against 
the brilliance of a sunset sky; it is dark against light. 



•J4() y- Ix'OMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

with marvellous effect. The picture grows more 
beautiful as the western fires go down. There is the 
same quiet of the morning. But here is a picture at 
sea. The harbor is glassy-like, and di-ows}-, as in the 
morning, only the emerald is become turquoise; and 
the ships are motionless against the background of 
the island landscape, while theii' masts cast attenu- 
ated reflections in the water below. A low mantle 
of mist drifts in over the island horizon; and the 
slender shafts of the spruces break through into the 
ruddy glow above, and much resemble the spires of 
a distant town; but, as we get nearer the islands, 
the fog recedes, and the atmosphere^ is ])erfectly clear, 
as in the earlier day. 

The islands hereabout, have nuich the same char- 
acteristics in common. The same mixture of ever- 
gre(Mi and deciduous woods crown the island cliffs 
and hillocks; the same outlying formations of schis- 
tose rock, worn and eaten into ragged, dangerous 
spines by the constant wearing of the waters; the 
same overhanging walls of massive stone-work, 
scarred with dee]) fissures, and set with huge embras- 
ures: tjie same green water breaking over ledges and 
hurriedly i-ec(>ding, U^aving jiools in their crevices, 
tinted with the color of sky and cloud, singing to 
themselves with a low ci'ooning monotone, sui'ging 
in and out with the tide; the s;une blue dome, bright 
and clear as heart might wish; or choked with 
clouds, and fog, and wet, or black with wind storms, 
and sleet and snow. These outer island barriers 
make the coast a dangerous on(\ wIkmi the (M|uinoc- 



Y^ ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



241 



tial and winter gales ))l()\v the sea in upon them, 
making ineessant roar, and hm'hng great waves, tons 
in weight, Uke missiles, up over the tops of the highest 
eliffs, or far in over the lower shores. Language is 
powerless to paint the grandeur, and power of these 
waters, the sullen nmsic of which is lost in ever- 
lowering cadences among \\u' neighboring islands. 
But when the waves arc still, as the afternoon shad- 
ows deepen, and grow along the polished sea-walls, 




ONE OF NATURE S COURT-YARDS 



stained and streaked with ochres, yellows, reds and 
purples, some of these cliffs and rocky battlements 
look like huge mosaics set in a sea of bronze. The 
charm is not all in the sea, for over the rough acres 
that make the great tramping-ground for the multi- 
tuck^ who come here for an afternoon outing, are 
spots of wild beauty. I have never s(hmi the Swamp 
rose in such profusion, as along the walls and fences 
in the lower grass-lands of some of these islands. In 
the depths of the woods, reached l)y many a winding 



242 Y^ ROM AXLE OF CASCU BAY 

path, are open wot-placos, Nature's court-yards, witli 
the tall trees lunlging them about in abundance; with 
wild-flowers spattering their bright green carpets 
with rich color-tones, with broad-faced lichens in all 
colors on every rock; rare polypodys for backgrounds; 
and Druid beeches, wide-armed, with smooth gray 
coats, that make one long, as in the days of boy- 
hood, to girdle them with a name, that another year 
would be hardly more than a distorted hieroglyphic; 
and then, what sweet odors from the spruces, and 
firs, that crowd against one everywhere, — only I 
miss the stalwart white pine. It may be here, but 
I have not seen it. 

Most of the island steamers leaving the city, point 
their prows straight for ''Jones's"; and it is only a 
matter of twenty minutes before they are lazily 
chafing their guards against the thick-set, slimy piling 
of a wharf built by the ancestor of the ancient family 
of "Jones"; and which is likely to remain a monu- 
ment, for some years to come, of the way things were 
done by a deail-and-gone genei-atioii. ( )ii this side, 
city-ward, the shore falls off gi'ndualiy: and in the 
ofling, is a fringe of boats of odd size and color, that, 
with the action of tlie tide, are continually grouping 
themselves into ijictui'esque disortler, and add a con- 
stant charm to the water. Everybody along shore 
has a water-craft of some sort, and the punt and dory 
are most common; but a dipper is as necessary to 
a punt as a pair of oars, for it can hai'dly l)e calleil 
water-tight. A ])unt is a diminutive craft anyway, 
holding hartUy two persons, which may have been a 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



243 



i 



consideration in the mind of its first builder. It is 
hardly safe to trust one's self alone in such a leaky 
concern; and it is eciually hazardous to take a com- 
panion. One to row and the other to bail, is a con- 
dition of safety in a punt, hereabouts. If there is 
an abundance of sailing craft, there is a dearth of 
horses and draught cattle; and I doul)t if, at any time, 
the assessor's 



books would 

show more than 

a single horse, 

and a pair of 

red oxen, — they 

were red when 

I saw them last, 

— they may be 

gray by this, for 

all I know. They 

would be aged 

enough certain- 
ly, if cattle ever 

grow gray. 

Along the single roadway I have before alluded to, 
are the more pretentious dwellings, the cottages, and 
summer houses; with here and there a (juaint gable 
peering, in a shame-faced way, out upon an avenue 
lined with Queen Anne monstrosities, painted in a 
half-dozen colors, nuich as an Indian might gel him- 
self up for a festival or a war-dance; as if it were not 
quite sure of its company. Al)()ut the ragged hill- 
top was a landmark, the slim si)ire of an old gray 




AN ISLAND ROAD 



244 . ¥'■■ ROM AXLE OF CASCO BAY 

church, that in its newer days was more frequented 
than now: and under the shadows of its eaves is the 
burying-ground. The schoolhouse. hardly a stone's- 
throw from the meeting-house, with tlie bleak, ex- 
posed burial-j)lace, make a group typical of the old 
New England of which Drake writes so charmingly. 
All these things lend a rni'e pictures(^ueness to what 
one may see about a locality, commonplace enough, 
if one takes its j)atronymic at its face value. About 
the older structures, there is the weather-worn quaint- 
ness, and an air of quiet deeadcMice, that makes one 
tliink of lishing-towns, with the dilai)idated wharf and 
a fish-house at its shon^-end like " I*'isher"s," within 
the shadows of which T have dug many a basket of 
luscious clams. There is a charm to the shallows, 
and black sands, and the hqising tides, if one has no 
better occupation than the joining a grouj) of urcliins 
whose desire culminates in the hooking of a cunner 
or a torn-cod, to finally dangle a line himself. How 
easily the man is metamorj)hose(l into the boy, with 
so many boys alnnit: and so nmch of boyish intei-est 
and inclination to arouse the doiinant boyish spirit 
that lingers in every man's make-up I 

The sight of a small boy bobbing his line on the 
flood-tide, gives me a boyish longing to wind that 
self-same line al)()ut my own linger; to feel for a 
moment the sharji conscious liite that b(>trays tlu^ 
hungry cunner. 'J1ie cunner is a beautiful tish, 
closely resembling the fresh-water j)erch in its iri- 
descent armor of tiny, close-knit scales that glisten 
hke mother-of-pearl in the sunshine. There is also 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 245 

a family reseniMaiU'e in the array of bony lances 
along its spine, that make grievous wounds if the fel- 
low is too carelessly handled. From the digging 
over of the wet sands for a handful of stray clams, 
and the breaking of their brittle shells on the plank 
of the old wdiarf, to the cutting off of tlieir black 
heads and the imjialing of them, one l)y one, as oc- 
casion i'e(|uires, ui)on the slender Limei'ick. — for the 
small trout liook is the best for cunner fishing, — 
with the summer sunshine over all, and a fresh, salty 
breeze blowing landward, putting out the sails of the 
yachts, up and down, the island roads, there is a zest; 
a fascination; the climax of all which, is the pulling 
up of a fat, half-pound cunner, twisting, wriggling, 
flopping with all a cunner's energy, until you have 
landed your prize in your basket. The cunner on 
the seashore takes the place of the trout inland. 
Catching cunners off the rocks of these bold shores, 
with the surf continually filling one's ears with its 
licjuid symphonies, along with the whistling wind 
and the cry of the sea-birds, is next of kin to catch- 
ing trout from the rippling meadow brook: yet, I 
prefer the green meadows as a tramping ground, with 
their newness and perfume, their narrow vistas of 
elms, and songs of cat-birds and thrushes, to the 
wide outlook of the sea, with its swirling waters and 
ceaseless monody. There is magic in a fishing-pole 
wherever you may find it; if, jierchance, there be a 
pool of s))arkling water in the neighborhood over 
which one may swing its slender, bending tip, with 
the likelihood of catching a fish. This sort of ex- 



246 r^" ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

hilaration is thought l)y mme to be a cruel sport; 
but tishes were made for the well-bemg of mankind; 
and if I am to dejKMid upon my ])hysician for a l)it 
of "toning up," 1 prefer to tiy my hiek first with 
Sir Sabjio Fontinalis. 

But what's in a name, with so much poetry of the 
sea about! During the mackerel season, schooners 
})ut in here with their seines Ijadly damaged l)y the 
sword-fish that go tearing through them after their 
prey; or that have been torn on the ledges in stormy 
weather. Then the great seine-boats are loaded 
with fathoms on fathoms of these long 1)la('k nets, 
from the herring or mack(M"el smacks, — often four 
to five hundred yards in length; — then rowed ashore 
to be unloaded into neighbor Trott's ox-cart, and 
pulled up the gullied footway to the fields, where 
they are carefully spread out to dry, and afterward to 
be mended. Spread out over the green grass they 
look like immense webs of gauze, or nuislin, in the 
sunlight; and so finely spun are the threads, that one 
nuist look closely to see the netting at all. The men 
work oftentimes a week on a single net when it is 
badl}' torn; but these fishermen arc deft workmen, 
and no time is wasted; for they must i)ly tluMr trade 
on the seas, a field whose harvest is always ripe. 
These vessels have an Arab-like way of going and 
coming; disappearing in the night-time, to, as mys- 
teriously, reappear a few days later. This mending 
of the nets by the sea has a romance of its own; and 
I never see the shimmering needles of the net-menders, 
but I wonder if thev aro thinkintr of those humble 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 247 

fishers, who from nieiiding their nets by the shores 
of Gahlee, became "fishers of men." 

A grocery store is prosaic enough at any time, with 
its plethora of boxes on its single counter, or on its 
dirt-begrimed gray-i^ainted shelves, and scattered 
al^out the floor; its corners occupied by molasses 
hogsheads, oil barrels, quintals of salt-fish, bags of 
potatoes, and bins of salt, — a sort of squatter sov- 
ereignty, — while other shelves arc sagging under 
their burden of spices, soaps, and caddies of to- 
bacco; and atop of all, the inevitable row of glass 
lamp-chimneys. Bizarre advertisements, many of 
them quite works of art, from a mechanical point 
of view, fin in the blank spaces here and there, 
compelling brief attention. Their colors are pleas- 
ing and suggest the days of the famous Prang, 
and seem strangely out of place here among these 
plebeian smells. Coils of tarred rope and twine 
hang from the beams; and from the nails, driven 
along their sides, depends a crockery exhibit, 
meagre in its variety, but not less interesting to 
the housewife who has discovered that things made 
now^adays do not seem to last as the old things 
did. A couple of settees, notched and hacked by 
the knives of the neighborhood loafers, flank the 
rusty stove amidships; and tlie tobacco stains and 
whittlings about the floor, show th(> habitues of 
the place to be veritable Yankees; while, outside 
the door, numerous boxes are improvised as set- 
tees for use in fair weather. Such surroundings 
are as familiar to the average countryman, as his 



248 yJ-' h'OMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

own fireside; but the firocerv at "Jones's'' is the 
haunt of all the ''oUl salts" on the island; and the 
sea-yarns that are spun henMii, on (|uiet summer 
afternoons, or on hlusleriiin; winter ni^-lits when the 
winds fi-om the sea set the little store a-trcmhlc, lend 
to it a eharniing flavor of romanee. 

Louno;ino; al)out this place (nw sunnner day, I 
heard old Siah Stai-lin', who saw the famous sea- 
hght off ^h)nhe<z;an between the British brig Boxer 
and the Yankee j)rivateer /'Jntcrpn'se, relate how it 
all took place, it was a mixed <;rouj), as one hnds at 
the grocery, — the neighborhood exchange, — of sum- 
mer boarders and natives; as if there were something 
of stinuilating and exhilarating (|uality in the plain 
ways and liomely speech of these islanders, as there 
really is. Ahniy of them carry more of (juaint ])hil- 
osophy in their everyday trousers' ])ockets, than some 
people carry in their noddles: and homely as their 
wit may be, it is natmal, and entertaining. Some 
fishermen, who have been mending tlieir nets in the 
field o])posite, cross th(» highway with their bags of 
twine, and loiter a momeiu, their visages bi'own with 
exposui-e, and their eyes a-t winkle with observant in- 
terest, as they scan these "lotus-eaters,'' these sum- 
mer (JUettaiilc : as if wondeihig what they were i-ealK- 
good for, any way. I am not so sm-e but the ])eople 
who live in the out-of-the-way ])laces by the seashore, 
and who never get out of sight of their gray roofs, 
or the hearinii: of the restless sea, and they who live 
the larger ]»art of the year in town, when they meet 
at the seaside, oi- among the hills, ma}' each look upon 



r^ HOMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



1>49 



the other as foreigners, with such differences in garb, 
in tastes, and ways of hving. 

The weather, and the next '' fishin' tri[)" with Ca|)'n 
Fisher are congenial topics; but a knot of gray- 
headed "salts" sitting on the stoop in the shadow 
of the grocery gable, are discussing this Monhegan 
fi<rht : and tlie old man Starlin". who se<'nied to know 




MONHEGAN 



more of the matter than any of his hearers, begins a 
story, that is all the more interesting, from th(» fact, 
that it w'as up this roadstead the Enterprise towed 
the Boxer the next day after the fight. From this 
highway one may see a grouj) of trees, under the 
shadows of which, was laid all that was mortal of the 
brave commanders of the two vessels, both killed on 
that historic summer afternoon of isll. 



25U y- liUMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

''I r'member it, 's if 'twaz yistcr(la3^ I saw the 
hull on't, — 'n' 'twaz a big tight. Wo lived on 
^I'nhiggin 'n them ar days, 'n' 'twixt farmin', 'n' 
fishin', 'ii' the like, managed t' git on with a big 
fam'ly o' younkers. The Boxer an' Rattler hed bin 
standin' off 'n' on M'nhiggin, the hull sunnner, 
watchin' fer coasters; 'n' a gret meny hed bin de- 
stroyed; 'n' pressin' the sailors inter the British sar- 
viee, a matter consarnin' which I allers hed my own 
idees; but arter a while the Rattler went off, kmvin' 
the Boxer cruise'n on her own hook. The day, afore 
the fight, wuz Saturday. We Ix^gan t' dig the per- 
taters; 't had been a dry summer, and the pertaters 
ripened off arly. Thet arternoon, the coasters hove 
'n sight. The Britisher gut sight on 'em, 'n' launcluHl 
her barges; but they didn't 'mount ter nuthin'; fer 
they'd scursely left the ship afore a 'shavin'-imir cum 
flout o' New Harbor 'n' driv' 'em back. Thet's wut 
they called privateers 'n them days. 

" Ther wuz 'a gret niovin' 'bout on the Boxer t' 
git under sail. A signal-gun wuz fired fer the men 
az wuz ashore after game 'n' l)erries, 'n' sich; a com- 
mon enuf hapi)enin'. lint gittin' under way, she 
bore t' wcst'ard 'thout ketchin' eith(>r on 'em, an' 
finally i)Ut inter John's Bay. The nex' day noon, 
'twuz the hftli o' September, we went t' th(> to|) o' 
the hill, takin' a spy-glass with us, 'n' there we wuz 
jined by three ofhcers of the Britisher, the shi])'s 
doctor, a leftenaut. 'n' a middy, who wuz ashore, 
gunnin", the day afore", "n" (\uh\'{ hear the signal. 
They wuz gettin' the lay of the'r ship- but the only 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY '2^)1 

sail 'n sight, wiiz a brig off Seguin, bearin' daown 
the s'utheast side of M'nhiggiii." 

'"Wut brig 'z thet?' asked the surgin, o' father. 

"'It's the Enterprise,' wuz the reply, arter a long 
look. 

"The surgin sed t' the leftenant in 'u undertone, — 
I heerd it all, ef I wuz a boy, — 'Ef Cap'n Blyth 
takes 'er, he's t' hev a tine ship w'en we git hum.' 

"The Boxer 'd discivered the brig, 'n' under full 
sail, steerin' 'bout sou-sou-east, bore daown the bay, 
but tew late, fer the Yankee shot squar' 'cross 'er 
bow, hauled up t' the wind, keepin' t' th' s'uth'ard 
past M'nhiggin in sarch 'f the Rattier, w'ile the 
Britisher gave starn chase. The Rattler hed gone. 
The Yankee hauled in sail 'n' gut reddy for t' fight. 
The Boxer cum up, 'n' poured in a wild bro'dside, 
w'en the Enterprise whirled short on 'er heel, 'n' 
jest raked the Boxer fore 'n' aft. A few minits arter, 
she passed her starn with a secon' rakin' fire. The 
Boxer wuz completely outsailed. In less then a 
half-hour, a third rakin' fire wuz sent 'cross the 
Boxer's bows, thet bro't daown the main-to]vmast 
'n' er number o' men who wuz tryiii' t' tare her 
flag from whar it had bin nailed, — 'n' the fight wuz 
over. The ships wer' side by side, 'n' the smoke hed 
drifted aout ter sea. 'T wuz jest a good workin' 
breeze, 'n' the Enterprise sailed roound, "n' roound her 
enemy, no dr/oubt disabled the fust fire. 

"The officers bo't a boat of father "n' jiut off t' 
th'r own shij\ but wuz not allowed t' bo'rd 'er. So 
they cum back t' the farmhouse fer shelter over night. 



o-o 



y^ Jx'OMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



"Supper wuz over, 'n' inother 'd cleared the things 
away. 'Twuz inos' dark, w'eii ther wuz a rap on the 
door; father went t' see \v"at wuz the matter, an' 
it wuz the officers cum hack. 

'"Mr. Starlin', we hev no money, but «our guns 
ar' jest «out on the porch 'n you may hev 'em "n' 
Avelconu^ ef you'll take us in over night.' 

"Clran'mother cum t' th' door an' said, 'I hev 
em, my son!' She 'd taken the guns 'n' hidden 
'em." 

Such was rncle "Siah's story of a memoi'ahle, and 
always glorious, exi)loit, — the first seafight won hy 
an American cruiser after the loss of the Chcsajicake. 
There was no one here who could dispute the tale, 
that, told in the dialect of a bronze-visaged sea-dog, 
owned something of tlu^ old-time romance of the 
battle; and the moist eyes of the narrator were not 
least in {\\v charm of personal relation. 

The winds blow across the waters the fragi'ant 
odors of the mainland fields and woods, where the 
wide marshes give way to the mowing-lands that 
slope so gently down to the sea; and fast asleep amid 
the trees along their highways are the thrifty fai'm- 
houses. Faint lines of dust show where their beaten 
tracks run; and over all falls the strong white sun- 
light. In tlir low-lying shore op])osite, \\it h its nrt- 
woi'k of shadows, its Ijright sands. Avet and dripping 
with the tide, holding everything in bright icflection, 
the ])ainte(l boats di'awn up here and there, the 
tender blue of the sky, with the roofs and domes of 
the neighboring town leaning against it, the spark- 



ri" ROMAXCE OF C.USCO BAY 



2.")3 



ling waters streaked with wooded isles, with white- 
winged ships coining and going between, or swinging 
out the stream with slackened sails, are pictures that 
once seen, are forgotten never; while their traditions 
seem onlv the more real. 










THE WIZARD OF CASCO 




THE WIZARD OF CAS(M) 







TAIOST three centuries ago, a 
Spanish navigator, named Car- 
tier, came to the coast of North 
America, and, saiUng along its 
northeasterly trend, discovered 
an extensive sheet of water 
hemmed about by miles of curv- 
ing mainland, and studded with l)eautiful islands. 
To the Ijroad tongue, or southerly rib of this, which 
makes its southwestern wall, he gave the n:une of 
Ca})n dc Muchas Islas, Ca})e of Many Islands, 
though on Hood's map, 1502, the name is given to 
the western headland at the mouth of the Rio des 
(fuamos^ probably the Penobscot. This bold, out- 
reaching cape, or promontory rath(n-, if one goes l)y 
his knowledge of physical ge()gra})hy, was dejiicted 
with much accuracy of outline upon th(^ various Sjjan- 
ish maps: it appears, as well, upon i\w atlas of Mer- 
cator: and is given much geographical importance and 



258 Y^^ RUMAXCE Of CASCO BAY 

jiromincnce in the charts of an earlier date. Starting 
from ancient Cape Hondo, belter known in these 
days to school-children and sailors, ;is the Nova Sco- 
tian Ca])e Sable, and runninjj; sontherly, the first 
prominent ])oint, or landmark, is the Penobscot; a 
river once known as the Rio de Gomez of the old- 
time map-makers. Next southward, is this striking 
headland overlooking the swarthy rocks and yellow 
sands of Poodack, with their twin lighthouses and 
their towers that day and night, — 

Watch the salt titles rise ami full, 

And the seas of Casco ghsten. 
Where, beneath the wind-blown mist, 

Birchen slopes and barren ledges 
Greet their shores of amethyst. 

All along the coast of Maine, from Piscataqua, east- 
ward, over two thousand miles of ocean frontage, 
frett(Hl with the embi'oidery, that Nature works 
through the ages, of hundreds of capes and bluntly- 
moulded ])romontories, l)road harbors and shelter- 
ing coves, gusty inlets that run a long way inland 
among the pleasant farms and home-lots, and tree- 
embossed islands, there is not a single one of them 
all. more bold and pictiu'esciue, or more grand on 
stormy days, or when the ecjuinoctial gales l)low in 
from the Gulf Stream, than this S])anish-christened 
cape of many islands, that, a hundred years later 
had taken on the local cognomen of Pur Poodack. 
Before that it was known as Quack by the Indians. 
Where the name Pur Poodack originated, or how it 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 259 

came to be affixed to the lands hereabout, is tradi- 
tionally accounted for, by the pathetic legend of an 
Indian of the vicinity who shot at a duck, and dis- 
abled, instead of killing it. Whereat the Aborigine 
exclaimed, in his compassion, — ''Poor duck! Poor- 
poor-duck! " 

I give it, as it came to me: and, homely as it is, 
one hears it to this day among the natives, though 
it bears a more royal name. 

This whole coast is one of romantic interest, and 
almost every inlet or jutting point has its legends, 
that are told to the children when the shadows of 
the evening shut down over the woods and hills; or 
as a sleep-distilling accompaniment to the snapping, 
crackling, winter indoor-fires. Here was a land of 
marvellous beauty ; a New World Archipelago ; for in 
sight of this breezy dome of rock and stunted wood- 
land, was an island for every day in the year. Pur 
Poodack, or by a more ciueenly translation, Cape 
Elizabeth, in a heavy wind, from any point of the 
compass between south and east, is considered by 
sailors, one of the most dangerous places on the 
Maine coast; a double assurance of which one may 
read in the two snow-white towers that stand at the 
gateway of these island roads; and the bright lights 
of which, are a most welcome sight to the helmsman 
when the thick drizzling fog shuts down over him; 
or a driving squall builds its crystal barrier between 
him and the ledges along shore. 

There is nothing of a cowardly or shrinking quality 
in the impression one gets in the seeing of this head- 



2GU 



y^-: JiUMAXCK OF CASCU BAY 



land for llio fii'st time. Puritan maidens of indus- 
trious haljit were wont in byii'onc days, to spread 
their daintily-wrouji'ht sanijjlers on the wahs of their 
humble dwelliniis for e\'ei'yhody to see; so Nature 
seems to ha\'e laid her mijihty handiwork out alx)ve 
the watei's. as if to show ))uny hinnan-kind what she 
can do at settinji" stone. How many atjes ago this 
mixtiu'e of IVits of mica, clusters of gleamino- crystals, 




IN TROUBLE 



veins of smooth red por])hyry, and slabs of schist, were 
fused together, and mouldetl into this rugged foima- 
tion, no one will \'enture to say: but ever since, 
against its gray, sternly-feat ui'ed face that is set lit- 
erally out to sea, mountains of water ha\"e come 
thundering across three thousand miles of blue rest- 
l(>ss ocean. — it may be from England's white cliffs, 
— to batter these immense bastions of rock into 
sti'ange freaks of I'oiin that are coimtlc^ss in tluMr 
variety. Here are tlights of massive stairs that lead 
uj) from these stone-yai'els of the sea to the gi'een- 



YJ-^ HOMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



2(51 



sward that crowns their iloines, or the sparsely-chid 
spruces that reach out over their sloping roofs to 
catch the storm-tossed spray. Precipitous walls 
tower, cathedral-like, as one sails within their shad- 
ows; walls stained with rare colors; their rich, dee})- 
toned shades predominating; and looking up at them, 
one thinks himself gazing upon some mighty concep- 
tion of frescoing; and at whose feet, are strewn broken 




- 2^— -.-..^X^ - 



A STERNLY-FEATURED FACE 



pillars, and huge cubes of rock; as if the workmen who 
had wrought ages before in this c^uarry of Nature, had 
left in a marvellous hurry, so crude are the designs 
traced upon them. But it is only when the storm 
swoops down upon the waste of adjacent waters that 
the workmen return; when the spray is so dense they 
are hidden from observation. Only their pounding, 
deafening at times, and the treml)ling of the earth 
under their heavy blows, betray them. It is no 
dwarf, like the 

■'Troll who dwelt in I'lshoi hill," 



202 y^ ROMAXCI': OF CASCO BAY 

and who built Kallundhorg Church for Ivshcnic Snare, 
who makes the strange sounds among their secret 
fissures and c;iv(»s; but the surf, that go(vs chasing in 
and out, ah day long, and all night, for that matter. 
Its sju'ech is remarkable for its deep sonorous 
quality, even when the waters wear the glimmer of 
glass, and make one think of Coleridge's "Ancient 
Mariner," with the l)ig ships idly drifting with the 
tid(\, their wi'inkled sails hanging against the blue 
wall of the sky: for nothing lies between this Fuodack 
country and the broad Atlantic. 

There is not a single out-lying rib, I'ock, bar of 
sand, or island even, to break the monotony of sea 
that seems ever moving bodily landward. But at 
the base of its outermost cliff, the sea sings a wonder- 
ful song when m"ged by the winds, that one trans- 
poses into Te Deum>:, Stabat Maters, and Glorias at 
will; forgetting, in the breaking of the long im'olling 
swell, the dash and splatter, the gush, the swirl, and 
confused roar, as of a thousand voices in one, that, 
heard one moment, sounds unlike itself the next; 
the glittering spray, and flashing, sil)ilant foam; 
the waning, veering, gusty freshening of the winds; 
that this grandly beautiful outlook was once ])lain 
Pur Pondnrl: Point in the local vocabulary; forgetting 
too, with all this seething water biMif^ath, that Southey 
ever attempted to translate such sounds, into rhyme, 
as haimt these rocks day and night. 

Hut all this romance of the sea fades away when 
the afternoon luei-ges into a le:iden-hued nightfall; 
and the winds I'ise hiuhei- as the dusk conies on. Mct 



YE HOMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 2(]-l 

with rain, blowing stiffly in from the southerly quar- 
ter, strengthening into a gale as they reach the land 
to raise clouds of dust along its highways. There 
are a few drops of rain, and the ]iroph(K'y of the storm 
is spoken. The woods grow darker in the increasing 
wind, and are streaked with silver where the poplar 
leaves are blown up; the swallows have left the 
fields, and the roads are turned into trails of swirling 
dust ; for there is not enough rain, as yet, to dampen 
them. The farmer goes to the pasture a bit earlier 
for his herd, noticing on his way, with silent dis- 
content, the falling of the unmatured fruit by the 
roadside, as some impatient gust of wind shakes the 
orchard tree-tops, covering the ground with " wind- 
falls." 

The api^les drop ui)on the stone wall, and bounce 
into the dull-colored dusty highway at their owner's 
feet; tid-bits for the cattle to gather, one by one, as 
they come up the road, homeward. The solitary 
whistle of a belated plover drops down from some- 
where in the sky, — a tremulous note that sounds 
weird and lonesome enough, with not another l)ird in 
sight. The dull thunder of the surf, a mile away, 
scarcely noticeable in clear weather, comes distinctly; 
and has a low, guttural, ominous quality, as of haz- 
ard or threat, in its far-off speech, that maki^s one 
conscious of impending evil, and the companionship 
of one's kind, a keen enjoyment. The cattle are 
driven up, and everything is made taut and snug 
about the farm buildings for a blow of two or three 
days. An extra supply of wood is brought from the 



264 



r-t' h'liM.wci-: OF CASco bay 



pile in the doorvanl, to last through the storm; cand 
a fire is li<j;ht(Ml on the broad hearth for the first time 
in the season: tor a Sej)tenil)er jiale, blowing in over 
the Gulf of Maine, narrowing the fury of the tornado- 
tossed (iulf Stream between Cape Cod and Ca])e 
Sable, and driving its mountain-high waves with all 
of Nature's wanton strength against this headland, 

with terrific shock, 
and an uproar heard 
aljove the tunnilt of 
the wind and rain, 

''M^' dii'^i^^W^^ <^^ '^ S^°^^ league away, 



^#. 



^/^, 







THE LOW-ROOFED FARMHOUSE 



is the event of the 
\-ear. 

I have a vivid 
recollection o f a 
great storm that 
years ago swept in 
f r o m t h e G u 1 f 
S t r e a m, deluging 
these shores with its innnense seas. 1 recall a low- 
roofed farmhouse on the "shore road." and its glow- 
ing flame in the September night. 

The afternoon had been cold. gray, and threaten- 
ing. The wind had blown in fi-om the sea with a 
low moaning sound since noon, gathering force, as 
dusk came on. The cattle came up the road with 
a strange air of i)reoccu])ation, as if the winds had 
been telling them secrets, tui'ning into the yard with 
decorous, obedient step, (piite unconnnon to them. 
The wind scurrieil up the I'oad. as it bl(>w over the 



YE HUM AXLE OF CASCO BAY ^ii-') 

pastures, fmsh from the sea, (laini) and odorous with 
salty flavor. The doors slammed; the smoke came 
down from the ehimney-tops hito the dooryard, to 
whirl twice, or thrice, about the huge pile of rifted 
firewood, as if dropi)ino; it a hint to keep out of the 
house until the storm was ()^•el•; winding out over 
the house garden-patch, through the tall old-fash- 
ioned hollyhocks, until the wind caught it beyond 
the shelter of the big barns and spirited it away into 
the woods further inland. 

From the dooi-yard I could see the l)lack waste of 
the sea, streaked with seething foam; and a constant 
sound, as of distant artillery mingled with the lesser 
roar of innumerable volleys of musketry, came up 
from it. As I watched, the line of br(\d«M-s .sec^ned 
to grow whiter, broader every moment: and there 
came down the sky, huge drops of rain, as if the 
storm were close upon their heels; but no more than 
these few premonitory drops fell. There was no twi- 
Hght. It was nightfall before one thought of it, as 
if the outdoor curtains had been suddenly drawn; 
for the fire brightened uj) in a cheery sort of a way, 
and a fresh glow overspread the room. Th(> win- 
dows were but blank spaces in the walls. The l)urn- 
ing wood between the clumsy iron dogs, askew on the 
scarred, uneven bricks, made lively nuisic: and the 
sparks and smoke, went flying and roaring uj) the 
big flue; as if to remonstrate with the drooping 
branches of the great elm, — the patriarchal tree 
of the farm, — for making such uncanny, creaking 
noises with their rul)l)ing uj) and down the moss- 



2()0 y^ HOMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

frescoed shingles; but the ancient ehii shook its top 
more uneasily, and swished its branches the more 
recklessly, while the sparks scurried downward to 

the ground, to go out in the wet. The wind, without, 
secnned to have a supernatural freakishness and the 
pow(>r of doing a great many things at onc(\ It 
whistled through the tawny fohage of the big elm as 
if a hundred puckered mouths wei'e blowing at the 
same time; it thundei'cd down the great square 
chinmey, to fill it with hollow, blustering sound and 
jarring tremor; it i)layed fisticuffs with the s(>award 
gables with many a feint, and now, and then, a stout 
blow that made (>very timl)er in the house shiver; it 
mopped the windows with the driving rain; and 
ri])i)ed the shingles, here and thei'e, from the roof, 
where the old hand-wi'ought nails had rusted oft", 
tearing down the road, to leave them wrecked in the 
a])ple-tree tops, or in the orchard stubble; it crept 
through the crevices about th(> shrunken window 
casings, to wander about the old sitting-room in 
draughty gusts, that sent indefinable creepy sensa- 
tions up one's spine; and impelled one to heaj) the 
already abundantly sup])lied hre from the stack in 
the chinmey corner; while, over all, sounded the 
surly message of the sea. 

The su])per was of homin}-, with plenty of cool 
sweet milk, which was set upon the table in a shallow 
ten-(|uart ])an with flaring rim, just as it came from 
its cool shelf in the milk-i'oom. I'roni it, each was 
heljied in tui'n. A bowl of home-made hominy and 
milk, eaten in the light of the roaring fire, was an 



y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 207 

expoi-ience that afforded exquisite enjoyment. The 
cJieerfiil faces that bent over this honiely repast ](>nt 
to it a rare, sweet (hf2;nity. 

My host had been master of more than one sailino- 
vessel in earher days, and had been nmch among 
tlie Bermudas, and up and down tlie Guh' Stream; 
but. after so nuieh of sea-faring life, lie had returned 
to the acres of his ancestors to haul kelp and sea- 
w(>ed from the kelp-cove that belong(>d to the old 
fai-m, and to plant its fields after the fashion of his 
torefathei-s. It was a good old name that never was 
stained with dishonor, and that had stood well with 
every tax collector since the time provincial dues 
were coUected in these parts. 

Nature finds many a heart in sympathy with her- 
self, appealing to humanity in one guise and another; 
subjecting men to her moods unconsciouslv; settino- 
their brains agog with strange fantasies, and uncanny 
imaginations, — thoughts that belong to far-off days 
and have no reference to, or influence upon, one's 
present existence. My host, lik(> his cattle, wore a pre- 
occupied, or ruminant, air, as if something of unusual 
gravity were about to ha])i)(>n. With every gust of 
wind, and dash of rain, and the dismal noises that 
accomjjanied them, he seenunl only the more alert, 
with just a shade of added anxiety clouding his 
rugged face. The table, (|uickly cleared of its rem- 
nant of repast, was ncnitly sjjread with its voyov of 
faded red cloth, and strewn with the few books and 
papers which had a temporary attraction for the 
liousehold, keeping company with the two or three- 



208 1'^' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

brightly-biirniiig faiullcs, that lu'l))cd the flashing 
firehght to illuniiiic the room quite sufficiently. Peo- 
ple did not expect much in those days of high prices, 
and self-denial, and Rel)ellion, of the early sixties. 

The conversation turned upon ghosts and spiritual 
manifestations, my host saying he could never under- 
stand why such things were always the longest to 
linger in the mind, forcing themselves upon one, 
routing and dri\iiig ):)efore them all i)revious thought, 
filling one's brain, oftentimes, with a queer tinge of 
apprehension, in s))ite of good sense and ])recedent, 
and most of all, in the face of intelligent reasoning. 

My host continued the subject, by saying, and I 
will not attempt to convey the ([uaintness of his 
speech, — "I have thought folk in the days of witch- 
craft might have been half-right, for all of my ortho- 
dox bringing-uj) ; as some I have known before this, 
have seemed to be on calling terms with the Devil, if 
not in actual business with him. There is no need 
of their riding about on broom-sticks after the 
fashion of Goody C(jle, either ; for there are nowa- 
days, witches enough, and devils enough, in the flesh. 

" I^ut sailors are the worst folk for superstitions," 
and my host laughed, heartily, to as quickl}' lapse 
into sobriety, as he went on with his half-soliloquy. 

" 1 have seen the day when a ^h)lher Carey's chicken 
aloft in the shijVs rigging, would have set my heart 
thumping like a drum-beat. 1 am well over that ; 
but a storm like this, brings cries for helj), and the 
sound of a shi)) going to j)ieces on the rocks. When 
the winds are thick and heavv with rain, the breakers 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



2G9 



dance in my eyes ; and a ship at sea, the low heavy 
boom of a gun, and the; graveyard up yonder on the 
hill, get strangely mix(>d up in my dreams. I never 
see these things when the skv is clear, and the wind 




ON THE ROCKS 



is offshore, though I always account for it, in one 
way or another. I believe somewhat in fore-warn- 
ings. My father did before u\(\ It runs in the 
family. He was a sea-going man, as were all his 
children ; and it was natural that they should inherit 
some of his ideas. T'olk l;iu";h at their neighbors 



270 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

Mho believe in signs, dreams, and fore-warnings, but 
I never do. I tell such they do not know what they 
are laughing at." 

Here my host stopped to nod his head twice or 
thrice at the fire, that seemed to burn the more 
Ijrightly because he noticed it so much. 

The wind and rain vied, each with the other, in 
keeping up a continual disturbance out of doors; 
and the latter ran down the windows-panes in Inroad, 
wavy streams, as if poured from a bucket. Now^ 
and then, a wet gust would strike the house, l^road- 
side, and the l^ig drops w^ould spatter over the inner 
windows-sill. The seal of silence had fallen u})on the 
room, unless the lazy tick of the little peaked-roofed 
Connecticut clock on the end of the fireplace mantel 
might be heard al)ove the storm. Each seemed to 
be listening to the tumult of the elements, or in- 
dividually thoughtful, except the housewife, whose 
knitting-needles kept up a flirtation with the blazing 
fore-stick, flashing brightly in the firelight as they 
clicked together in a brisk sort of a w^ay. 

"I suppose," said my host, beginning again, " there 
are as many addled folks nowadays as ever. Most 
everyboddy has some sort of a maggot in his head; 
I've one in mine I guess, for I've seen a ship driving 
onto the beach beyond the kelp-cove since the wind 
began to blow in from the sea. It's only an idea, 
mebbe, but it sticks like a l)eggar's-tick. 

"By the way," turning to speak to me after he 
had poked the fire well together, " did you ever hear 
the story of Parson Burroughs who preached in these 



YE ROMANCE OF CAiiCO BAY 271 

parts before Castine came with his Penobscot Indians 
to burn what there was left of the Neck settlement, 
— Burroughs was hanged at Salem on account of 
Mary Wolcott? 

"Speaking of folks getting maggots in their heads, 
puts me in mind of it. I calculate it might have been 
just such a night as this, the sheriff took the parson 
to Salem. When he got to Portsmouth, he told them 
there was a horde of devils at his back the whole 
way." 

"A race," I suggested, "that would put Tam 
o' Shanter's, with all the devils of Alloway Kirk after 
him, out of sight." 

I was familiar with most that had been written of 
the witchcraft days of Salem. I had read of the 
execution of Margaret Jones of Charlestown in 1648, 
suspected of having and using the "malignant 
touch," a persecution that clogged the footsteps of 
the old herb-women and the neighborhood crones, 
the climax of which came to Salem village when 
good old Rebecca Nurse was hung on Witches' Hill, 
and dumped at the foot of its gallows. I had heard 
of old Goody Proctor and her str.;nge doings; of pots 
jumping from their cranes; of hayracks tipped bottom- 
side up in the narrow barn floors, with their liulky 
loads beneath; of all the castaway l)()ots and shoes 
in the farmhouse garret being thrown to th(^ foot of 
its stairs at midnight by invisible hands; and of hay- 
cocks hanging in the orchard tree-to]^s; and all on 
the self-same farm where I lived as a boy; for there 
was a haunted cellar on the hill-top to lend the old 



272 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

place somewhat of distinction. The story of Abigail 
Hobbs, who saw the devil's sacrament administered, 
was not a new one. I had seen hardly more than 
a mention of Parson Burroughs. 

The children put aside their books and papers and 
drew nearer the fire, as if the coming tale were a new 
one to them, w^hile the story-teller, settling comfort- 
ably into his broad-armed, high-backed rocker, began 
a tale so old, and of times so far away, that it needed 
the setting of just such a wild, boisterous night as 
this, with its dismal storm, to lend it the semblance 
of reality. The knitting-needles stopped their click- 
ing; the knitter rolled her ball of stout homespun 
yarn and the half-completed stocking together, and 
putting them in the little l^asket on the table, pre- 
pared to listen anew to this story of the old provincial 
days, when, — 

O'er the Witch-trott road to Portsmouth, 

Past its salt creeks winding down, 
Out through Hampton's sea-bleached meadows, 

Burroughs went to Salem town. 

These preliminaries ended with the story-teller put- 
ting a bit of Virginia leaf somewhere within the hid- 
den recesses of his right cheek, as if he might extract 
some inspiration from it after the fashion of De 
Quincey, an incident that raised my expectancy to 
a higher pitch, to which my host referred as the 
only habit that had followed him home from the 
sea. 

" In early Pur-poodack days, houses were as ' scarce 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 273 

as hen's teeth,' — as my mother used to say before we 
laid her away in the hill burying-gromid where she 
might be always in sight of the sea, for she had one 
boy somewhere in its blue waters. A single road 
stretched the length of the Neck settlement over which 
folk travelled to southward. It began at the foot 
of a rough road that ran down from the Casco Neck 
uplands to the shore, and was known as old King 
Street. Folk crossed the river to the Cape by a 







ferry-boat, a flat-bottomed craft that set sail when 
the wind served; and at other times the ferry-man 
rowed them over. The trail crept round the Cape 
shore, and across Alewive Brook to Spurwink Creek, 
that twists like a blue ravelling of yarn through thou- 
sands of acres of salt marsh wdienever the tide is in ; 
and here, when the tide was well out, one could cross 
to follow the shore to Piscntaqua. Across the Pis- 
cataqua was old Portsmouth, and from that place to 
Salem and Boston, the way was more convenient. 



274 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

That was the way the Parson came from Salem to 
preach at the Neck settlement. He was a little man 
with bushy, black eyebrows, and powerful strong in 
his arms. While he lived at Wells, the folks in Salem 
were beginning to hang their neighbors; and it is not 
singular either, that folks should have got a grudge 
against him and called him a wizard, to pay off old 
scores; but every man has his enemies. It was not 
singular, the children should make fools of them- 
selves when the old folks set them up to it, as 
they did Mary Wolcott; when such a paper could be 
made by the court" — the story-teller here arose, 
and going to the little unpainted shelf at one corner 
of the room, took from it an old volume bound in 
black-looking sheep, and turning its stained pages 
toward the fire as if in search of something, ending 
his sentence, — ''as this." 

"I bought that at a vendue some years ago, on 
one of my sailing trips into Salem. I always had a 
curiosity to see the hill where so many folks were 
trundled in a cart to be murdered. A barren place 
enough, it was then, with nothing to shelter it from 
the sea winds, and maybe it is now, for all I know. 
Standing there in the sunshine is well enough, but 
after nightfall, I should steer my craft clear of such a 
ghostly old place. Never fancied l^eing round dead 
folks, anyhow. It isn't healthy-like; they come up 
in your face in the dark. It's a hard-looking volume, 
— pretty old I imagine, — but the auctioneer said it 
was full of witchcraft, and knocked it off to me for 
tivo and six. There," — said the old man, handing me 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 275 

the book, — " is the charge against the parson, — 
you'll enjoy the old-fashioned print; the firelight is 
not strong enough for my eyes." 

''Anno Regis et Recfince, etc., quarto." 
Essex, ss: The Jurors of our Sovereign Lord and Lady, 
the King and Queen, present, that George Burroughs, late of 
Falmouth in the Province of IVhissachusetts Bay, the ninth day 
of May in the fourth year of the reign of our Sovereign Lord 
and Lady, William and ]\hiry, l^y the Cirace of God, of England, 
Scotland, France, and Irehiud, King and Queen, defenders 
of the faith, etc., and divers other days and times as well 
before as after, certain detestable acts, called witchcraft and 
sorceries, wickedly and feloniously hath used, practiced and 
exercised at and within the town of Salem in the County of 
Essex aforesaid, in, upon, and against INLary Walcott, of 
Salem village in the County of Essex, singlewoman; by the 
which said wicked acts the said Mary Wolcott, the ninth 
day of May in the fourth year aforesaid, and divers other 
days and times, as well before as after, was and is tortured, 
afflicted, pined, consumed, wasted, and tormented, against 
the peace of our Sovereign Lord and Lady, the King and 
Queen, and against the force of the statute in that case made 
and provided." 

I had little difficulty in reading the indictment by 
the flickering light of the hearth-fire, for the letters 
stood out clearly on their leaf of old-fashioned, blu- 
ish, milled paper, so Idack were thoy, and so sharply 
outlined was the type from which the book was 
printed. The book was a quaint thing; and had on 
its reddettered title-page, a cut of an old hag astride 
her broomstick, with the new moon over her shoulder; 
which, with its antiquity, made my host's story, — 



276 r-B ROMA^X'E OF CASCO BAY 

A story laid in far-off days, 

When Sewall sat in wig and gown 
To judge the devil's protegees, — 

Quaker, and witch, in Salem town, 

By burly Stoughton exorcised 

With hangman's scaffold; ill-devised 
Provincial edict; dearth of conmion sense; 
Law-sanctioned crime and wickedness prepense, — 

the more interesting. 

It was not singuhir, with so formidable a docu- 
ment, couched in such stately, technical phraseol- 
ogy; charging such abominable practices and bear- 
ng the seal of an august tribunal, a Colonial court, 
that the people should have regarded the same with 
somewhat of awe and respect; for it was Justice 
Sewall's teste, no doubt, that gave to it its legal sig- 
nificance; or, that they sanctioned all its ignorance 
and wickedness with orderly sobriety and a churchly 
zeal, — that to-day seems pitiable if not criminal in 
its unreason, — especially when tales were told as 
truthful, like that of Maiy Osgood's, afterwards re- 
lated by her in this court, how she was carried through 
the air with Deacon Frye's wife, Ebenezer Baker's 
wife, and Goody Cole to a pond, where the devil bap- 
tized her, dipped her face in the water and made her 
renounce her former covenant with the church, 
claiming her soul and body forever; antl that she 
was brought back through the air on a pole. It was 
not incredible that people believed whatever might 
be said against the best known and most upright of 
their neighbors, if there was anything of the marvel- 
lous quality to it. As for that matter, there are 



r-fc' ROMANCE OF CASCO HA Y 277 

plenty of credulous people in these times, whose eyes 
and ears are always open to anything they may hear, 
and whose tongues wag, — but liere my speculations 
were interrui)ted. 

" It was in the mid-sun nner of 1690. I have always 
heard it was Sunday. The old town has perked up 
so much with its //c/r-fangled ways and its stranger- 
folk coming in summer to get a sniff of salt and a bit 
of tan in their faces, I don't think it would know 
itself in its homespun clothes, even on Sunday, with 
no one stirring about, its old-fashioned sunshine laying 
across the fields that are wider than they used to be. 
Wells is drowsy enough on week-days, youHl say, if 
you hav(> ever been there; but on Sundays, the place 
is fairly asleep. The sunnner folk like it, no douljt. 
All they do is to appear out in a new rig every 
day, which is nonsensical, if they can afford it; for 
there's enough poor folk as would be glad of the cost 
of a dress to help along. Folks, as have plenty, do not 
fret much about their neighbors. It's human nature. 

" The history of George BvuToughs begins for us, with 
his graduation from Harvard, in the class of 1(570. 
Very soon after that he went to Casco, later known as 
Falmouth, in the Province of Maine, and which com- 
prised a wide area of the surrounding country. In 
fact, it compassed about all the settlements east of 
the Saco, and south of Merrymeeting Bay. It was, 
how(n-er, at Casco Neck, to l)e accurate, that he un- 
dertook his life-work, the carrying the Gospel to all 
men. At Casco, he received a grant of land of one 
hundred and fiftv acres. It is evident that he was 



278 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



a domestic man in his tastes and inclinations, for he 
was early married, and early widowed, as well. Bur- 
roughs was of the rugged type of the times. He was 
a man of great strength, as were most of the early 
settlers and their descendants, where temperate hab- 
its, and healthy environments prevailed. He was of 

a saturnine cast of feature, 
and of swarthy complexion; 
of good height, and broadly 
jiroportioned; nor was it any 
wonder he could do those 
feats of strength which were 
charged to the account of 
Satan. Burroughs was a 
man of much stability, men- 
tally. His judgment was 
fortihed by a liberal educa- 







A BIT OF SCARBOROUGH 



tion, the best the times afforded ; and like all Harvard 
men, he assumed to sway men, and to direct the order 
of their going, as has been the fashion of the Harvard 
Churchman since the beginning; and perhaps, his 
fault was, that he did not exercise sufficient tact. 



y£ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 279 

Some local historians have set Burroughs out as a 
bad man, and without a particle of evidence. He 
was diligent in the service of the church ; he under- 
went, with others, the hardships of the times; he 
conducted religious services at the garrisons, isolated, 
and far apart ; he ran the same risks of personal dan- 
ger; and there is no evidence that he ever shirked a 
duty, or ever ran away from an oliligation. He was 
a good Indian-fighter; and his metal was tried at 
more than one garrison in old Scarborough. It does 
not appear that he was lax in his morals, after the 
fashion of the earlier preachers of this section. He 
was not greedy; but he was otherwise, as is evidenced 
by his returning to the donor town the large acreage 
of lands given to him, and which to-day lie almost in 
the heart of the beautiful city, the Mecca of the sum- 
mer tourist to Maine; and which, from its twin hills, 
looks out, east and west, over ever-widening perspec- 
tives of sea and shore, of classic, romantic, and leg- 
endary charm. There was no reason why Burroughs 
should liave left Casco, except that there was greater 
need of missionary work out Scarborough way. He 
was, according to all accounts, a man of personal 
resource, with ideas of liis own. The times were 
turbulent. The settler was of crude and credulous 
intellectual capacity. Strifes were easily fomented 
and carried on; nor was Burroughs the only one of 
the cloth who had difficulty with his parish. It was 
the complaint of the times; and it was so common, 
that wherever there was preaching, there was dis- 
sension among the lay portion. 



280 y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

"About the time of Burroughs' graduation, a 
church had been organized at Danvers, old Salem 
Village, and a ]\Ir. Bayley assumed the pastorate. 
The usual dissatisfaction began in a small way, and 
widened, until the General Court was called upon to 
interfere in the support of the pastor; but even that 
was of little avail. The new parish would neither 
fiddle nor dance to the Bayley music. The order of 
the General Court was openly contemned. Funds, 
food, and fuel, were woefully lacking; and the parson 
from Newbury cried quits, and retired from the Dan- 
vers field. 

"It was into this parish of Danvers, where spiritual 
tvu'moil and party animosity were rife, that Bur- 
roughs came. If Preacher Bayley went out the back- 
door, the parson from Casco may be said to have 
stepped upon the former's shadow as he came in at 
the front. Burroughs could not have been unaware 
of the dissension that compelled the retirement of 
Preacher Bayley; and it may be, that he took the 
reins with a firm hand. Be that as it may, he soon 
found that the Danvers soil was still affording lodge- 
ment for a])undant tares; and, notwithstanding his 
urgent ministrations, for he was a man, instant, in 
season, and out of season, he soon was given op- 
portunity to feel the Danvers spiritual pulse under its 
most feverish aspects. He hammered at this per- 
verse and untoward metal for a year; but dogma or 
homiletic availed little. They were laggard with 
their tithes, and there were times when Burroughs 
was actually in want. He kept to his task among 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 281 

this obdurate people for two years; and finally left 
the pastorate; but not before his wife had been car- 
ried into the Danvers burial-ground, whose funeral 
charges her husband was unable to {)ay for lack of 
money. 

"Among the fmicral charges were two gallons of 
Canary rum l:)Ought of one Putnam. The debt was 
about fourteen pounds. At that time the parish was 
intlebted to its pastor in the sum of thirty-three 
pounds, odd; and for this debt to Putnam, Burroughs 
had drawn upon the parish in Putnam's favor to pay 
the Putnam claim. After throwing ujd the Danvers 
parish, and adjusting his debts, Buri'oughs came back 
to Casco. This Danvers parish, by the way, was the 
same into which the Rev. Samuel Parris was inducted 
seven years later, occupying the Bayley-Burroughs 
parsonage, and whose voluminous notes of the evi- 
dence in the witchcraft trials, taken by order of 
Hathorn, make up the records of the numerous cases 
of wizardry of which that of Burroughs was a fair 
exponent. 

" Upon Burroughs' arrival at Casco, he had the con- 
stable at his heels. Putnam, notwithstanding the 
order upon the Danvers parish, which he had re- 
ceived from Burroughs, had pursued him hither, evi- 
dently with no other purpose than to expend upon 
the preacher the venom of the disaffected portion of 
his former parish. It was a fair sample of the Chris- 
tian charity of the times; and is not a far remove 
from some of the springs of modern church turmoils. 
I can think of no better name for such disaffections. 



282 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

It is almost beyond belief, that the doings of 
the early courts, and the clergy that made up their 
most potent support, could have been realities. 
There is no doubt, but the existence of the laws 
against Quakers, heretics, and witches, gave lever- 
age for the visiting upon many a goodman, and 
his goodwife, the petty animosities and jealousies, 
that, even nowadays, set whole neighborhoods by the 
ears. 

" After this, Burroughs wrought in the rough vine- 
yard of Casco until around 16SS, when he went to 
Wells, where he preached acceptably, and became an 
active man in that sparse settlement. Old Wells 
was a settlement of garrisons at the time; of which, 
perhaps, Storer's may be regarded the chiefest, in 
local importance. It was here, principally, that Bur- 
roughs officiated; for the savages were abroad; and 
conditions were perilous in the extreme. There was 
no safety for anyone outside the garrison w\alls; and 
it was within these havens of security that, in those 
immediate days, most religious observances were held. 
It has been said by an annalist of the times, that 
Wells was better supplied with garrisons than any 
of her sister settlements. Whether or not this be true, 
it is certain that Wells stood the brunt of the frontier 
savagery marvellously well. 

"On the twenty-first day of July, 1691, a despatch 
was sent to Boston, to which George Burroughs' sig- 
nature was attached second on the list of signers — 
Francis Littlefield's being the first. On Sept. 28, 
the same year, the following flespatch was sent : 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 283 

"' To the Honored Goreruor and Council: 

'' 'Whereas it hath pleased God (both formerly and 
now) to let loose the heathen upon us by holden us 
off from our improvements, keeping us in close garri- 
son, and daily lying in wait to take any that go forth, 
whereby we are brought very low, not all the corn 
raised in the town is judged enough to keep the in- 
habitants themselves one-half year, and our stocks 
both of cattle and swine are very much diminished. 

" ' We therefore huml^ly request your honors to con- 
tinue soldiers among us and appoint a connnander 
over them, and what number shall be judged meet to 
remain with us for winter that provisions, corn and 
clothing suitable for them may be seasonably sent, 
also one hogshead of salt, all ours being spent; also a 
present supply in that what was sent before is almost 
gone. AVe had a youth seventeen years of age last 
Saturday carried away, who went not alcove gun-shot 
from Lieut. Storer's garrison to fetch a little wood in 
his arms. We have desired our loving friends, Capt. 
John Littlefield and Ensign John Hill, to present this 
to your honors, who can give a further account of 
our condition. We subscribe, — ' 

"This despatch is headetl liy Burroughs. Among 
other signatures are those of the two Wheelrights, 
and Joseph Storer. This evidences the whereabout 
of George Burroughs, on that far-off summer of 1691. 
He seems to be given something of precedence in 
this most pressing affair of the need of the Storer 
garrison. Sullivan gives Biu'roughs a ])oor character, 
but from all that is left of the meagre detail of his 



284 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

life, and of which the largest part is given to the 
proceedings at Salem, such a conclusion must be 
conjectural. 

"At the time of the accusation against him of 
witchcraft, Burroughs had a third wife. In the in- 
dictment, one notes Burroughs was described as of 
Falmouth. At the time of his arrest he was in Wells, 
at Storer's garrison, and York was the proper venue 
for his trial; but as Bourne says: 'the offense might 
be regarded as committed in Salem, because the 
spectre of the witch was there, and also the person 
injured,' — or, in other words, the act was done in 
Salem. There was apparently little law in the mat- 
ter, and still less gospel. According to the writer 
last ciuoted. Burroughs had strong friends; one of 
whom remarked: 'I believe he is a choice child of 
God!' An emphatic testimony, to be sure. 

"The date of his arrest does not appear; but the 
warrant was issued aliout the last day of April, 1692, 
by Elisha Hutchinson, 'major,' at Portsmouth. It 
was directed to Jno Partridge, 'field marshall of the 
provinces of Maine and New Hampshire,' command- 
ing him to ' apprehend the body of George Burroughs, 
at present, preacher at Wells in the province of Maine, 
and convey him with all speed to Salem.' The re- 
turn on the warrant was, that the officer ' had ap- 
prehended the said George Burroughs and have him 
brought to Salem and delivered him to the authority 
there this fourth day of May, 1692.' 

"Burroughs was probal^ly at the Storer garrison 
when arrested. Thev l^lew the horn in those days 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 285 

to call the people to meeting; and it was a good old- 
fashioned forenoon and afternoon preaching, — the 
session lasting three hours, with an 'early candle- 
light' at the end of it. Folk did not mind the rude 
seats, for it did not cost much to go to meeting in 
those days; and the preacher was always paid with a 
bag of wheat, or corn, or a bundle of woolen rolls. 
It is all different nowadays; for, the more folk pay 
their minister, the less preaching they get. Good old 
times, when the women went to one side, and the 
men to the other, and the preacher expounded the 
Word, and at the same time watched the clearing 
for Indian signs, as his own folk for signs of the devil 
inside; for every man carried his musket to church, 
as he did his conscience. 

"The horn had blown its summons that morning 
from Storer's for the folk to attend church service. 
Everybody attended. There were distinguished vis- 
itors present. The Provincial marshal had come 
from Portsmouth with his deputies. They were after 
Burroughs. Partridge read his warrant, but Bur- 
roughs did not know much about Salem witches, or 
Salem juries, either. He did not know what queer 
verdicts twelve men could find in a jury-room, and 
he went along, willingly enough. 

"I had a lawing once, and I have my opinion of 
juries. I have drawn them out of the jury-box, and 
it is mighty poor timber they l^uild them out of, some- 
times. Great deal of shaky hemlock in the panel. 
Burroughs' sermon that morning was a short one, for 
they were at once on the road to Salem, hoping to 



286 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



reach Portsmouth early in the evening, even then 
affrighted with their thoughts of Indians, witches and 
ghosts. A\^ithout this, considering the faciUties for 




..-- '?f 









.:'-i«Sii 







FROM WELLS TO YORK 



travel in those days, the .execution of the precept 
was reasonably swift : and there may have been some 
truth in the tradition extant of the happenings upon 
their journey Salem-ward. Thoroughly saturated 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 2S7 

with the heresy of witchcraft, their terror was made 
more emphatical by the actual perils which beset 
them. They followed the seashore along Hart's 
Sands to York; and from thence, they struck inland, 
to cross the river at Quamphegan. Wild imaginings 
played riot in their minds as they went; and the 
eerie tales of those Salem chits were freshened and 
reenforced as the glooms of the Newichawannock 
woods deepened about them. 

"The stumijs in the pastures by the way, were 
bogies or ghosts. The skies reeked with ominous 
signs. Partridge and his scjuad were in mortal fear 
of Burroughs, who was reputed to have sold himself 
to the devil; which is not so surprising, when one re- 
members even the judges were so scared that a few 
months after, they hanged poor old Rebecca Nurse 
after the jury had acquitted her. It was a time 
when folk went on a mad hunt for trouble. Every 
happening alDout the house had its occult meaning. 
The church-yard was not considered a healthy place 
for folk after night set in; and a ride through a strip 
of strange woods when ghosts might he abroad, took 
a sight of backbone, — more than most folk had in 
those times, — when the winds turned the leaves of 
the trees into wizard foot-falls; and the creaking of 
their interlaced branches were witch jabberings; and 
the bent gray birches a crowd of sheeted grave- 
sleepers, leering and grinning over the fences; and the 
silences of the night were pulsing with hideous things 
and hideous sounds. I have heard that the cellar of 
the oUl Samuel Parris house may still be seen; that 



288 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

was where the black Tituba from the Barbadoes, 
trained eight girl-simpletons into witch-finders. They 
were so smart at the business, that they had only to 
point a single finger at a poor old woman who had a 
stoop in her shoulders, a hook-nose and a wrinkled 
face, and she was as good as hung. The girls were 
taken to Andover to hunt witches; and with such 
effect, it was commonly reported that, ' forty men of 
Andover could raise the devil as well as any astrol- 
oger.' 

" But the officers kept to their journey, and as they 
went, their wits oozed out their pores. Witches flew 
through the air, and ghosts arose out of the bushes. 
Strange and unaccountable whisperings kept pace with 
their horses, evil spirits communing with the cul- 
prit preacher, whose sober and undisturbed demeanor 
was suggestive of grave and devilish machinations. 
Night set in quickly, as if a black pall had been let 
down from the sky. It was a storm-cloud, that a 
moment later burst with tempestuous fury upon them. 
The lightning flared, and flapped its pale wings in 
their faces, until one bolt, more potent than all the 
others, smote a huge pine over their heads. Along 
with the fragments of the thunderous j^eal that fol- 
lowed, came the debris of the tree-top, crashing at 
the heels of their horses. Horses never flew like those 
of the Portsmouth sheriff. Burroughs had wrought 
a direful spell, and the friends of Satan had them all 
in their grip. They kept no more to the solid ground, 
but skimmed the roads like a troop of swallows scour- 
ing the fields before the coming rain. It was a wild 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



289 



ride, equalled only by that of Ichabod Crane and the 
Headless Horseman. But they got over the Pis cat- 
aqua safely, and were only able to quiet their nerves 



¥^'"'\ 



'h'\'S7" '^''^'^ iXfAj^y^ 



i^i' 



* 



•J m 



) 



Ji „ii *l 'i 

*r' ^* I If / 






THE WITCHTROTT 



under the eaves of the tavern at Portsmouth. From 
thence to Salem, the ride was uneventful. 

'' To this day, the road through the shadows of these 
old Berwick woods has been dubbed, the Witchtrott. 



29U YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

Not then had Burns, the Commoner 

Of Doon and Ayr, — "and a' that," — 
Sung to the world in braw Scotch verse, 

"A mon 's a mon, for a' that." 
But Burroughs knew the truth, as well, 

That simple living teaches, 
That manhood is not always found 

In laced coats, wigs and breeches. 

Not then the old North Church had hung 

Its lanterns, redly gleaming. 
Into the night, from belfry-tower, 

To wake folk from their dreaming, 
With clattering midnight hoofs, and shout 

Of hurried hoarse-voiced warning, — 
"Daybreak, the British march this way!" 

No news for idle scorning. 

Not then the Concord men had fought. 

Nor made of roadside fences 
And lichened walls, their ambuscades. 

The uncondoned offences 
That taught the world a lesson, grim, 

With Yorktown for its object. 
The "divine right of kings" alike 

Is vested in the subject. 

"And yet, as one recalls the environment of these 
people, what could one look for, other than what oc- 
curred? It afforded a most natural soil for the de- 
lusions that were abated none too soon. It was a 
leafless hedgerow that led to Peter's Gate. 

" May 9th, Burroughs was brought up for exami- 
nation at Beadle's Tavern. Stoughton and Sewall 
came out of Boston to lend countenance to so im- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



201 



portant a case. This was in the nature of a private 
enquiry Ijy the adjacent clergy. Here is a part of 
the Star Chamlier examination : 

" ' Being asked when he partook of the Lord's Sup- 
per, he being (as he said) in full connnunion at R(jx- 
iDury, he answered it was so long since he could not 
tell, vet he owned he was at meeting one Sal)bath at 




^^^""Pk 



ti.%: 














BEADLE S TAVERN 



Boston, part of the day, and the other at Charlestown 
part of a SalDbath, when the sacrament happened to 
be at both, yet did not partake of either. He denied 
that his house at Casco was haunted, yet he owned 
there were toads. The al30^'e was in private, none 
of the bewitched being present.' 

"This preliminary hearing being concluded, pro- 
ceedings in open court were l^egun, and one can im- 
agine^the crowd agape, half with wonderment, and the 



202 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

rest onlooking with ill-concealed unrest. What a 
nudging of elbows, grimaces, shifting of feet, and 
uneasy and apprehensive posturings, must have con- 
fronted the grave judges, who, under the English 
law, which deprived the accused of the right of coun- 
sel, were supposed to maintain all reasonable bar- 
riers against the prisoner's accusers! 

" But follow the record : 

"'At his entry into the court room many (if not 
all of the bewitched) were grievously tortured. Sarah 
Sheldon testified that Burroughs' two wives appeared 
in their winding sheets and said that man killed her, 

'' ' He was bid to look upon Sheldon. He looked 
back and knocked down all (or most of the afflicted 
who stood behind him). 

"'Mary Lewis' deposition going to be read and he 
looked at her and she fell into a dreadful and tedious 
fit. 

Mary Walcott Testimony going to be 

Elizabeth Hubbard Read and they fell 

Susan Shildon Into fits. 

"'Being asked what he thought of these things he 
answered it was an amazing and humiliating provi- 
dence but he understood nothing of it, and he said 
(some of you may observe that) when they begin to 
name any name they cannot name it. 

" ' The bewitched were so tortured that authority 
ordered them to be taken away some of them. 

'"Capt. Putnam testified about the gun. Capt. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 293 

Wormwood testified aJDOut the gun and alDOut the 
molasses. 

'''He (Burroughs) denied that al)out the mohL'^ses. 
About the gun he said he took it before the lock and 
rested it upon his breast. 

" ' John Brown testified about a barrel of cider. He 
denied that his family was affrighted by a white calf 
in his house.' 

"This reference to the record throws a side-light 
upon the bias, or mental leanings of the Court. As 
ridiculous as seem these stories, for they were not 
evidence, their result was to cause the remanding of 
Burroughs to the Salem Gaol, where he remained un- 
til August; when he came up for trial on the indict- 
ments, which, in the meantime had been drawn, to 
the number of four, of which one is given to the 
reader. Ann Putnam and Sarah Osgood seem to have 
been the most lucid and prolific in their imaginings, 
as their depositions indicate. Ann said, — and by 
the way it was Putnam who some ten years before 
had followed Burroughs with legal process into Fal- 
mouth, and perhaps it was directly chargeable to 
Thomas Putnam that a girl of around twelve years 
of age should be able to relate such a tale as is re- 
corded by Parris, — that Burroughs' two first wives 
had appeared to her and had told her that they had 
been bewitched to death Iw him. 'One told me,' 
she deposed, 'she was his first wife and he stablied 
her under the left arm and put a piece of sealing-wax 
on the wound, and she pulled aside the wdnding-sheet 
and showed me the place.' Also, 'the wife which he 



294 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

hath now, killed her in the vessel as she was coming 
to see his friends, ' — the revelafion of the second wife. 

"To quote a recent writer: 

"'Simon AMllard testified to being in Falmouth, 
Me., in September, 1689, when some one was 

" ' Commending Mr. Burroughs, his strength, saying 
that he could hold out his gun with one hand. Mr. 
Burroughs being there saitl, I held my hand here be- 
hind the lock and took it up and held it out. I, said 
deponent, saw Mr. Burroughs put his hand on the 
gun, to show us how he held it and where he held his 
hand, and saying there he held his hand when he 
held his gun out; but I saw him not hold it out then. 
Said gun was al^out seven-foot barrel and very heavy. 
I then tried to hold out said gun with both hands, but 
could not do it long enough to take sight.' 

" ' Willard also deposed that when he was in garri- 
son at Saco some one in speaking of Burroughs's 
great strength said he could take a barrel out of a 
canoe and carry it and set on the shore, and Bur- 
roughs said he had carried a barrel of molasses or 
cider and that it had like to have done him a dis- 
pleasure, so he intimated that he did not want strength 
to do it, but the disadvantage of the shore was such 
that his foot slipping in the sand he had liked to have 
strained his leg.' Benjamin Hutchinson testified that 
he met Abigail Williams one day about eleven o'clock 
in the forenoon, in Salem Village. Burroughs was 
then in Maine, a hundred miles away. She told him 
she then saw Burroughs. Hutchinson asked where. 
She answered, 'There,' and pointed to a rut in the road. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 295 

Hutchinson threw an iron fork towards the j^h^ce where 
she said she saw Burroughs. Wihianis fell into a fit. 

" Coming out she said, ' You have torn his coat for 
I heard it tear.' 'Whereabouts?' said I. 'On one 
side,' said she. Then we went to the house of Lieu- 
tenant Ingersoll, and I went into a great room and 
Abigail came in and said, 'There he stands.' I said, 
' Where? where? ' and presently drew my rapier. Then 
Abigail said 'He is gone, but there is a gray cat.' 
Then I said ' Whereabouts?' ' There,' said she, ' there.' 
Then I struck with my rapier and she fell into a fit; 
and when it was over she said, 'You killed her.' 

" ' Hutchinson said he could not see the cat, where- 
upon Williams informed his credulous soul that the 
spectre of Sarah Good had come in and carried away 
the dead animal.' 

"These affairs, be it rememl)ered, occurred in broad 
daylight. Deliverance Hobbs, called as a witness in 
the case, protested her innocence. Subsequently she 
was examined in prison and confessed that she was a 
witch. She had attended a meeting of witches where 
Burroughs was preacher, and 

" ' Pressed them to bewitch all in the Village. He 
administered the sacrament to them with red bread 
and red wine like l)lood. . . . Her daughter Abagail 
Hobbs, being brought in at the same time, while her 
mother was present, was immediately taken with a 
dreadful fit; and her mother being asked who it was 
that hurt her daughter, answered it was Goodman 
Corey, and she saw him and the gentlewoman of Bos- 
ton striving to break her daughter's neck.' " 



296 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

'' The same annalist says: 

" ' I quote at this point a deposition exactly as I find 
it on the files, without the change of a letter or a 
punctuation mark. 

"'The complaint of Samuel Sheldon against Mr. 
Burroughs which brought a book to mee and told mee 
if i would not set my hand too it hee would tear me 
to peesses i told him i would not then he told mee 
hee would Starve me to death then the next morning 
hee tou^d me hee could not starve mee to death but 
hee would choake mee so that my vittals should doe 
me but litl good then he tould mee his name was 
borros which had preached at the vilage the last 
night hee came to mee and asked mee whither i 
would goe to the village to-morrow to witness against 
him i asked him if he was examined then he told mee 
hee was then i told him i would goe then hee told 
mee hee would kil mee before morning then hee ap- 
peared to mee at the hous of nathanniel ingolson and 
told mee hee had been the death of three children 
at the eastward and had kiled two of his wifes the 
first he smothered and the second he choaked and 
killed two of his own children.' 

"Ann Putnam, it will be remembered, told an en- 
tirely different story about the way in which Bur- 
roughs 'killed his two first wives,' and she, too, 
claimed to have the story directly from the appari- 
tions of those wives. 

"A jury of seven appointed to search the body of 
Mr. Burroughs for witch marks reported that they 
found nothing but what was natural. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



297 



"George Herrick testified that in May he went to 
the jail and searched the 
body of Jacobs. He 
found a tett under the 
right shoulder a quarter 
of an inch long. He ran 
a pin through it, but 
' there was neither water, 
blood, nor corruption, nor 
any other matter, and so 
we make return.' The 
following document is 
also among the papers: 

" ' wee whose names are 
under written having re- 
ceived an order from ye 
sreife to search ye bodyes 
of George Burroughs and 
George Jacobs wee find 
nothing upon ye l^ody of 
ye above sa^'d Bui'roughs 
but wt is naturall but 
upon ye body of George 
Jacobs wee find 3 tetts 
wch according to ye best 
of our judgements wee 
think is not naturall for 
wee run a pinn through 
2 of ym and he was not 

sincible of it one of them being within his mouth 
upon ye inside of his right cheak and 2d upon 




A CORNER OF SALEM 



298 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

his right shoulder blade and a 3d upon his right 
hipp. 

Ed Welch sworne John Flint jurat 

Will Gill sworne Tom West sworne 

Zeb Gill jurat Sam Morgan sworne 

John Bare jurat.' 

"Burroughs was convicted, however, and on the 
19th of August hanged on Gallows Hill, Salem." 

Calef says Burroughs was 

"Carried in a cart with others through the streets 
of Salem to execution. When he was upon the lad- 
der he made a speech for the clearing of his inno- 
cency with such solemn and serious expressions as 
were to the admiration of all present: his prayer 
which he concluded by repeating the Lord's Prayer 
so well worded and uttered with such composedness 
and such (at least seeming) fervency of spirit, as was 
very affecting, and drew tears from many, so that it 
seemed to some that the spectators would hinder the 
execution. The accusers said the black mand stood 
and dictated to him. As soon as he was turned off, 
Mr. Cotton Mather, being mounted upon a horse, ad- 
dressed himself to the people, partly to declare that 
he (Burroughs) was no ordained minister, and partly 
to possess the people of his guilt, saying that the 
devil has often been transformed into an angel of 
light: and this somewhat appeased the people and 
the execution went on. When he was cut down, he 
was dragged by the halter to a hole or grave, be- 
tween the rocks, about two feet deep, his shirt and 
breeches being pulled off, and an old pair of trowsers 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 299 

of one executed put on his lower parts. He was so 
put in together with Wihard and Carrier that one of 
his hands and his chin, and a foot of one of them, 
were left uncovered." 

Famous Judge Sewall was moved to make a rec- 
ord of the event of the execution of George Burroughs, 
and of the unbelief of many of the Salem folk in his 
guilt. His note bears date of August 19, 1692. 

" This day George Burroughs, John Willard, John 
Proctor, Martha Carrier, and George Jacobs were exe- 
cuted at Salem, a very great number of spectators 
being present. Mr. Cotton Mather was there, Mr. 
Sims, Hale, Noyes, C'heever, etc. All of them said 
they were innocent. Carrier and all. Mr. Mather says 
they all died by a Righteous Sentence. Mr. Bur- 
roughs by his Speech, Prayer, presentation of his 
Innocence did much move unthinking persons, which 
occasions their speaking hardly concerning his being 
executed." 

This judge was the only one of them all to make 
public confession of his error. 

Referring to the (juotation from Calef, and his al- 
lusion to the repeating of the Lord's Prayer by Bur- 
roughs, a witch was not lieliin-ed to be able to repeat 
the same correctly. As a part of the examination of 
an individual found guilty of witchcraft, that was 
one of the ordeals to which the culprit had to sub- 
mit; it was regarded in the light of corroborative 
testimony, and its repetition was always exacted by 
the presiding justice at the trial. Nevins, in a note 
to his work on Salem Witchcraft, says, — "the ac- 



300 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

cused often voluntarily repeated the prayer, as Bur- 
roughs did on this occasion." 

As to Burroughs' character, Fowler, in his edition 
of Calef's "More Wonders, etc.," disagrees with Sul- 
livan. Increase Mather termed him a " very ill man." 
Hutchinson declares that Burroughs at his trial, " was 
confounded, and used many twistings and turnings 
which I think we cannot wonder at." Cotton blather 
writes, " his tergiversations, contradictions, and false- 
hoods were very sensible at his examination, and on 
his trial." Nevins opines, "that all these state- 
ments were based, more or less, on Cotton Mather's 
'Wonders of the Invisible World.'" Cotton Mather, 
and his Double-headed Snake of Newbury, demand 
equal credence with his tales of sj^ectral visitation-s 
and influences. Mather and the Salem judges were 
no respecters of the infirmities of extreme old age; 
nor were they qualified to judge of the competency, 
or incompetency of evidence. They purged the 
threshing-floors of Truth with the brutal flail of De- 
lusion; and Sewall, alone felt the stings of Conscience. 
Stoughton was the Provincial Jeffries who presided 
most ably at this feast of crime. George Corwin. the 
sheriff, was a willing tool; and poor Samuel Parris, 
how his little brain must have throbbed and ached, 
as he tried to keep up with this drivel of adolescent 
hysterics! 

Degenerate days! 

Not a few writers upon the occurrences of those 
days, have made serious attempt at palliation of so 
grave an outrage against personal right, and com- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 301 

munal decency; but it has l:)een at the expense of the 
standard of intelhgence exhibited by the Puritans in 
other hues of self-government. Had this weeding 
out of heretical tares been less cruel; or less tainted 
with apparent malice; or even less hasty in piling 
stones upon old Giles Corey, and swinging its vic- 
tims from the rude gallows on Witches' Hill; or 
somewhat more doubtful in its credulity, one might 
be inclined to plead leniency of judgment. Had the 
official sanction of these terrible deeds, that smacked 
of the days of the Duke of Alva, been less pronounced, 
and active, it might have been easier. But this was 
done by the Crown, which left its victim without 
counsel, or the intervening arm of the Court ; which, 
under the old English law, was bound to ward off 
irrelevancy and hearsay; and to shelter the accused 
within its mantle of absolute justice, so far as the 
same was possible of attainment under the existing 
laws, and a wise and temperate application of them. 
John Proctor, who was convicted as a witch, and 
who was hung on the same day as Burroughs, affords 
an instance of evident, and malicious persecution. 
He was a "proper sort" of a man, and was possessed 
of some local importance. He was referee in a 
matter of law between Giles Corey and John Gloyd, 
and midoul)tedly incurred the enmity of Corey. He 
had his idea of dealing with this moral distemper; 
and he was one of those who kept his wits, when 
those of others were balanced about evenly between 
witch-ridden Parris' pasture, and Beadle's Tavern. 
He did not hesitate to express upon proper occasion, 



302 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BA Y 



hi.s personal tlisapprobation of these untoward hallu- 
cinations of Abigail Williams and her conscienceless 
coterie of adolescents. Proctor said, he " could whip 
the devil out of them," and it was a public calamity 
that he was not given the opportunity to apply the 
birch. Even this sturdy adhesion to sound sense 
counted against him in his day of need, to be re- 




PARRIS PASTURE 



called later with poignant regret by those who had a 
hand in his murder. 

His wife, Goody Proctor, as she was called in the 
witch vernacular, was apprehended, sentenced, and 
would have gone to the galhjws with her husband, 
except for the plea of pregnancy, which procured for 
her a stay of proceedings. Before the birth of her 
child, the insane delusions of these Salem butchers 



r^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 303 

had become weary or affrighted with the ever-present 
spectre of gray-haired Rebecca Nurse swinging in the 
wind; as, according to Rose Terry Cooke, 

"They han2:ed this wear}' woman there, 
Like any felon stout; 
Her white hairs on the cruel rope 
Were scattered all about." 

But Proctor was a man of keen perceptions, and 
of great determination. He had his prehminary ex- 
amination, and was then remanded to jail for trial. 
An observant witness of the manifest injustice and 
one-sidedness of these trials, he asked for a change of 
venue to Boston. It was refused him. He then 
solicited to l^e l^rought before magistrates other than 
Stoughton and his fanatical associates, which proved 
likewise, unavailing. No other inference can be 
drawn, than that these "judicial" proceedings were 
attaint with ultra vires, going far beyond the powers 
of the Court in these so-called trials. The accused 
might as well have been taken to Gallows Hill, and 
disposed of at once on the original warrant, as to 
Court. The result was the same, for an accusation 
was equivalent to a conviction; and the stain of 
Goody Nurse's murder is of the color of the fatal 
noose that strangled all, from Bridget Bishop to 
Sarah Good. 

Here is something of interest, as showing the lay 
sentiment of Salem Village, and the current opinion 
which found definite expression: 

"We whose names are underwritten, having .sev- 



304 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

era! years known John Procter and his wife, do testify 
that we never heard or understood that they were 
ever suspected to be guiky of the crin:ie now charged 
upon them, and several of us, being their near neigh- 
bors, do testify, that to our apprehension, they hved 
Christian-hke in their family, and were ever ready to 
help such as stood in need of their help." 

This petition was signed by John Fulton and 
twenty others. Here is another of similar character. 

"We reckon it within the duties of our charity, 
that teaches us to do as we would be done by, to 
offer thus much for the clearing of our neighbor's 
innocence, viz.: that we never had the least knowl- 
edge of such a nefandus wickedness in our neighbors 
since they have been within our acquaintance. . . . 
As to what we have seen or heard of them, upon our 
conscience we judge them innocent of the crime 
objected." 

This latter was signed by John Wise of Ipswich, 
and thirty-one others of his Ipswich neighbors, in 
Proctor's behalf. Neither of these, which were pre- 
sented to the Court's Assistants, availed anything. 
Great moral courage, however, was required to pre- 
sent them, so emphatically friendly were they to 
Proctor's interest. 

These allusions to the Proctor case are luminous, 
as illustrating the deeps of the moral slough into 
which the Salem authorities had waded, along with 
the insipid-faced Cotton Mather, to get altogether 
mired. Lieutenant-Governor AVilliam Stoughton was 
the chief-justice at these trials. His sanctimonious 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 305 

affectations made his administration of the law suffi- 
ciently odious; but his merciless judgments were 
painted with virulence. Once, when one of his vic- 
tims was reprieved, he left the bench in a flout of 
temper, to exclaim, "We were in the way to have 
cleared the land of these. Who is it obstructs the 
course of justice, I know not. The Lord be merciful 
to the country." 

In Proctor's case, notal^ly, he was not allowed the 
time he thought necessary to prepare for the sum- 
mary exit in store for him. Even the clergyman who 
attended the hangings, refused the usual consola- 
tions of the faith, in his last moments on the scaffold, 
— the essence of barbarity of the Dark Ages. So it 
was charged, as showing manifest persecution, a 
charge not to be gainsaid. No doubt these peti- 
tions were thorns in the sides of the Court and its 
ready assistants, for they were the palpable evidence 
of the rising storm of open denunciation, and con- 
demnation, which was to follow all the active partici- 
pators in these outrages against right and decency, to 
their graves. 

The horror of those days must have been inde- 
scribable, with the short shrift of a fortnight be- 
tween the dock and the hangman. But those days 
are far away, and it is a pleasing thought that even 
the last resting-places of these nineteen alleged 
witches, or the, rather, unfortunates, have been ob- 
literated by the soft hands of Nature. Would that 
these extracts from the ancient court records had at 
once faded into illegibility; but they remain for the 



306 Y^^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

world to see, even to the bottles of '' witch-pins " 
carefully hoarded even now in the Salem court-house 
for the curious to look uj^on, pinning the traditions 
of Yesterday to To-day. 

Here the little clock on the mantel began to strike, 
and, unconsciously, I had counted nine, when the 
children, with a parting kiss, stole quietly off to bed; 
nor, was I omitted in the observance of this old- 
fashioned courtesy. I heard their light footsteps on 
the uncarpeted stair, and wondered if they would 
hide their heads under the coverlid, after hearing 
such grewsome tales of witches and ghosts that were 
likely to haunt the open chambers in the childish 
brain. 

The fire is getting low and everything has a drowsy 
sound, unless it is the storm outside. A half after 
nine, the ashes on the hearth are raked a])art; the 
half-burned back-stick is tipped into the glowing hol- 
low against the chimney-back, and covered with hot 
coals and a thick outer covering of dull gray ashes. 
The fire is raked up for the night to smoulder and 
smoke until morning, when it will be unraked to 
make the hre tor the new tlay, — a custom not 
many ste])s from a religious observance in most New 
England farm households, — a sort of Fire Worship, 
— for the day ended and began, at this altar of 
smouldering flame. With a ])arting sip from the 
quaintly-fashioned brown nnig, I bade Goodman and 
Goodwife a "Good night!" and climbed the creaky 
stair after the children, to an old-fashioned room 
with old-fashioned furnishings, to get an old-fashioned 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY oOl 

slumber under the dripping roof.s, and perhaps to 
■dream that I am on the road to Quamphegan. 

"Bocim!" It is the wind buffeting the gable. 

I do not know how long I have slept, but I am 
thoroughly awake. 

On the brass-mounted Ijedstead, the tapering, 
fluted posts of which reacli the ceiling, as I noticed 
before blowing out the flame of my candle what 



< -i^'^LiM^h. 




ON THE ROAD TO QUAMPHEGAN 

seemed hours before, my watch ticked in a subdued, 
half-apologetic sort of a way, as if its onl}' excuse for 
ticking at all, was that of making some companion- 
ship for itself. That it took a quiet enjoyment in 
keeping up its monotonous speech, cheery at times 
and brisk-like, dying away into a half-audible asser- 
tion of itself at other times, was evidenced l)y the fact 
that it was simi)ly doing on this occasion what it had 
done every night since it had come into my posses- 
sion. All I could make of its iteration was, — 



308 r^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

"Wake up! Wake up!" and I doubt not that had 
been the gist of its saying during my slumber, from 
what occurred afterward. 

I am not a heavy sleeper. I awake easily if un- 
usual sounds are about, or even at will, if I have 
fixed the time for such waking before going to sleep. 
Some folk sleep with an alarm clock beside their 
pillow; but it is more convenient, and less trouble- 
some to the family, if one can make the time-keeper 
in his brain strike the hours; nor are my slumbers 
light, for they are thoroughly restful when in normal 
health. Knowing all this, I am wondering why I 
am so wide awake on the instant, when I should be 
soundly sleeping, with such a storm lullaby over- 
head. Something has touched me, and I have un- 
consciously responded. T look out into the room, 
but nothing is discernible in this cube of opaqueness 
into which the thick storm has converted my room 
for the time being. I seem to be apart from all evi- 
dences of humanity, as for the seeing of them, or 
hearing of them. There is no town-clock to send 
down the storm-wind the message of the flying hours, 
with its clanging note. Not even the little time- 
keeper from the "Yankee Notion" country, on the 
fireplace mantel below, could be heard, at its loudest 
stroke, beyond the front stairs; but, for all this, I 
have the uncomfortable impression that I am not 
altogether alone. Who is it, or what is it, that has 
thrust itself upon my attention at this unseemly 
time of night? There are no sounds about, — only 
those of the storm. When the gale lulls a bit, — it 



r/? ROMANCE OF CA^CO BAY 309 

comes in fitful gusts now. with intervals of down- 
pouring rain between, — there is a rhythm of thick- 
falling drops on the pine roof-shingles that impart a 
sensation of wavering, irregular })ulse to the timbers 
that hold the staunch roof and gable together; as 
if fairly worn out and discouraged under the pelting 
and drenching of such a night of wind, and wet. On 
the seaward gable, the rain courses down the warped 
shingles to the outer window-sill, with an audible 
splash and spatter; and when it comes with a gusty 
haste, it is thrown against the ancient gable with a 
dry rattling sound, like sleet. A heavy gust makes 
the old house tremble from king-pin to cellar; and 
the wooden fireboard at the foot of my bed is blown 
outward; falling with a queer flapping noise, as if 
trying to catch its breath in the tumult; while the 
sounds in the chinmey are augmented in volume. 
The wind, as it blows over the top of the chinmey, 
fills the flues with a medley of wind-speech. The 
chimney seems thronged with summer-dwellers, the 
swifts, there is such a fluttering of windy wings; and 
then there is a sound of blowing into an empty bot- 
tle, only in larger degree; as if a stray storm sprite 
had caught some urchin at his sport of coaxing hide- 
ous sounds out of this creation of the glass-blower, 
and in a freak of mockery was playing like pranks with 
my host's chimney-top. It whistles, mocks, moans, 
and mutters all sorts of wind gibberish. It rolls, 
or tumbles, headlong dowm the gloomy alley where 
the Smoke family live, making a deal of disturbance, 
•and carrying with it swallow nests by the score, and 



310 r-B ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

huge scales of glossy soot; and, not satisfied with 
that, it coaxes great splashing drops of wet along 
with it ; an illustration in nature of how folks may go 
from had to worse, when they are not particular what 
company they keep. I can hear the pountling of 
the sea; antl it is like the rolling of distant thunder; 
so much like thunder is it, that I am not startled 
when my room is flooded with a thin bluish light ; a 
l)allid, weird, quivering flame, that is followed by a 
terrific crash that has swallowed up all other noises; 
and that makes the old house shudder nervously at 
this storm threat. The thunder dies away to wind- 
ward, with slow, uneven mutterings; the wind is 
awed into silence; antl the rain comes in torrents. 

How much one can see in an instant of time! In 
that brief second of electrical phenomena, I have, 
by a sort of instantaneous mental photography, made 
a picture of all there is in this room, even to the 
quaintly-patterned wall-paper, and the colored prints 
that hang against it, and the old-fashioned furniture, 
that fills its nooks and corners, — a picture that will 
last forever. On the walls is the greenest of green 
and white paper; the whole, a landscape in conglom- 
erate, with oblong panels, or blocks, separated by 
white seams ; as if set in an irregular sort of masonry 
bond, neither English, nor Flemish, but peculiarly 
old-fashioned; each pictured panel a duplicate of its 
fellow, and suggestive of the times when wall paper 
came in patches or sc|uares, instead of rolls; and that 
were fastened in place with nails; all of which was 
somewhat before paper-hanging had become an ai't. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 311 

One window-f'urtain of a like arseiiifal color, uiirollcd 
to its full length, is decorated with an impossible 
landscape, done in gairish colors, that would give one 
the nightmare if seen long in such an unearthly 
light. The tall, brass-mounte(l chest of drawers with 
its tiny looking-glass in its thinly gilded frame atop, 
and the blown-out tallow dip beside it; the square, 
top-heavy stand with its four attenuated legs and 
ancient blue-ware toilet-set to keep it company; the 
black rush-bottomed chairs, each one a ghost of 
Puritan dignity, that set stiffly between; and look- 
ing down upon them from the walls, the faded faces 
of good Queen Bess and the unfortunate Mary, with 
a half-dozen wood-cuts from some illustrated news- 
paper, pinned here and there in lieu of something 
better; all these, with the fireboard fallen prone, 
and helpless, athwart the home-woven rag carpet; 
and the hearth, dingy, cheerless and forlorn, are as 
indelibly inj])rinted upon my brain at this far-off 
day, as when I saw them for that single instant of 
quivering hght. 

There is one thing in this room I have not men- 
tioned, — a little square-topped stand at the head of 
my bed, an old-fashioned chair close beside it, and 
in which was something I had seen in my earlier 
days that gave me a momentary chill. I might say 
here, I am an utter disbeliever in ghosts or appari- 
tions; but here in this chair is the impalpable, but 
visual evidence, that might convince a more credu- 
lous person than myself, of ghostly visitations, for 
one of the spectre family has come to play the ghostly 



312 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

watcher over my slumbers. I see in the span of a 
hghtnhig flash, the figure of an old man, with long, 
white beard, dressed in most ancient garb, the cut 
and fashion of which are before my time, and which 
are strange to me. His coat fits loosely about the 
stoop in his shoulders, and on his half-bent head is a 
slouch hat, that might have hung for years in the 
dustiest corner of some old grist-mill. Now, I think 
of it, the old man's garl3 was more like a miller's 
than anything else: or like something that had been 
taken from its garret nail, with the undisturl^ed dust 
of years upon it. The occupant of this chair does 
not look at me, — he never does, — but seems star- 
ing vacantly outward into the room, as if depreca- 
ting any inquiry he might read in my eyes, or any dis- 
covery I might make, could I but get a look into his 
own. He is no stranger to me, with his pallid counte- 
nance and depressed manner, for I have met him 
several times since my early childhood. He always 
preserves the same impassive mien. Wliatever his 
mission, I have never been able to discover it; but 
I have become so used to his appearance at any time, 
that I sometimes find myself trying to conjure him 
into existence, but am rarely successful. Sometimes 
he stands at the foot of my bed, but he never looks 
me in the face; why, I cannot imagine. He comes 
most when my room is flooded with light, usually at 
the full of the moon. Whether it is the family ghost 
or not, I do not know. I never heard my people 
allude to the matter, however fashionable it may be 
to have such a well-behaved ghost among the family 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 313 

heirlooms. Is it not singular that his visitations 
have never before been commented upon? I am 
an only child, and my father had numerous brothers, 
to any one of whom his Ghost-ship might have at- 
tached himself; but I confess I was startled enough 
when I first saw him in his dusty, anti(}uated clothes, 
that were the farthest remove fi'om the musty ha- 
biliments of the graveyard, sitting by the white-cov- 
ered light-stand in the big square cham})er of the 
old farmhouse, a good quarter of a century ago. 
There was one singular thing about this old fellow. 
While I could see every outline of form and feature, 
and could even distinguish the texture of his thread- 
bare garments in the moonlight, yet I could see 
through and beyond all this, so thin and unsub- 
stantial was this, to me, vagary of an unduly ex- 
cited imagination. But was it a vagary? Whether 
it was or not, will always be a mystery, to be solved 
after this house of flesh has been vacated, when, if 
restless spirits return to earth, the writer may take 
a hand at {^laying midnight visitant. 






THE TROLL OF RICHMON'S 
ISLAND 




THE TROLL OF RICHMON\S LSLAND 




N these matter-of-fact days one 
does not give much heed to the 
superstitions once cherished 
among the fireside tales of 
||, singular and so-called super- 
natural happenings; but that 
such were current coin among 
- -4'^'^''" our ancestors is nevertheless 

true. They have come down to us as remnants of 
one vagrant chronicle or other, weird traditions of 
trolls, were-wolves and vampires, of ghost-walks and 
haunted houses that made the Salem Witchcraft 
Trials the short steps to that series of tragedies that 
are almost the only blot upon the civilization of New 
England. 

Children's tales, nowadays, hardly three centuries 
ago, in the days of Jocelyn's Mermans and Tritons, 
they were repeated oftentimes in low-voiced murmurs, 
when repeated at all — as if the Dead Ship of Harps- 
well were ever a ship at all, except in the mind of 
some lively romancer of the period, whose imagina- 
tion stood for the quintessence of veracity. They 
were the days when John Ingram's description of the 

317 



318 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

Golden City of the Penobscot wilderness set the greed 
of all London agog to make immediate pilgrimage to 
Norombegua, the then Mecca of the New World ex- 
plorer, and whose only rewards were the direst fail- 
ure, except that so fair a ))icture as now greets the 
eye of the sea-voyager as he approaches the Maine 
Coast, would never have l^een limned, had not this 
same spirit of adventurous exploration, as it were, 
stretched the canvas and sketched in the perspective 
of what was to be an incomparable panorama of sea 
and shore. 

Southward of Champlain's "Cabo de Muchas Islas" 
was Richmon's Island, one of the shifting scenes of 
a drama ]:)ut upon the boards in the days of Charles 
I, and which continued to be played with varying 
fortunes for many years thereafter. 

AMth Trelawney for i)ron:ipter, greed, avarice and 
murder stalked across the stage with a realism only 
to be found in the living heart. Here were the liv- 
ing characters, and here they played those parts, 
whose eritreacts were enlivened only Ijy the dirge of 
the ocean that beat unceasingly against the but- 
tressed shores, as if in protest against the character 
of the play that was on, a kind of continuous per- 
formance, that was broken into only by the dropping 
out of some actor as the musket ball, or knife, cut 
short the span of life. 

It was here in 1S55, on Richmon's Island, that a 
pot of gold was ploughed up, an old earthen pot, 
within whose recesses for more than two centuries 
had been hidden the romance of a far-away day, a 



r^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



310 



romance stained with more tlian one bloody traged}', 
and which would have been as yet unrevealed, but, for 
the old Troll who lived, so he told me, about the stone- 
yards of this old "cape of many islands" ever since 
the days of Chaos, and who, for so many years, was 
the self-constituted guardian of this old pot of gold. 
This treasure is now the property of the Maine 

Historical Society, where 
the ancient coins may 
be examined if the 
cin-a tor r e g a r d s t h e 
observer as honest as 





himself; and it 
was here in the 
shadows of the 
lofty ceilings 
under the spell 
of the gathering 

twilight, as I fingered one of those worn discs of 
gold, with all thought of Aladdin, and his Lamp, as 
far away as my own book-shelves at home, the old 
Troll, hoary with the dust of every geological period 
since the Creation, slowly emerged out of the dusk 
to perch himself on the glass case beside Father 
Rasle's old chapel-bell, from which vantage-point, 
with one arm outstretched, his stubl^y forefinger in- 
dicating the coins in my hands, and with a voice 
that sounded like the music of the sea, he murnmred. 
— "You would like to know their story?" 



320 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

"Certainly, — very much, indeed," and eagerly, 
I replied, notwithstanding my surprise at the sudden 
appearance of this courteous and dwarf-like bit of 
humanity. 

"I will tell you, — " with something of flattery 
in his accent. 

I give it to my reader as literally as I am able. 

"You know the old Zealand legend of father Fine 
and the church at Kallundborg that he built for 
Esbern Snare?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, then, it was a sister of min« whom Fine 
had for wife, unfortunately, and who sang, — 

"Tie stille, barn min! 
Imorgen kommer Fin, 
Fa'er din, 
Og gi'er dig Esbern Snares 

oine og hjerte at lege med!" 

his fate of the coming day. Helva of Nevsek, and 
Esbern Snare are long since gathered to their fathers, 
but I can show you the stones of Kallundborg Church 
to-day, Gaffer Fine builded so well. And Gaffer Fine 
and his Troll-wife are alive to-day, and living, under 
Ulshoi hill. Fine beats his wife and children, still. 

"But the Trolls are an ancient people, and the 
Norse valleys, and the islands — 

" Low lying off the pleasant Swedish shore 
Washed by the Baltic Sea, and watched by Elsinore," 

abound in wild tales of their doings. Their lore is 
the folk-lore of every race; and their songs are sung 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



321 



in every tongue; the crooning lullabys, that mothers 
murmur to their drowsy babes, they have caught 
from the Troll-wives singing under-ground, — 

" Since the Creation, the Trolls have been the 
good spirits of mankind, with few like Gaffer Fine. 
My clan, allied to the llichmon family, have simply 
followed its traditions; and since the days of Cedric, 
the first titular king of Wessex, and especially that 
coimtry, anciently, and since known as Somerset- 
shire, the annals of the Richmon family have been 




ON THE EDGE OF THE MARSH 



oiu' own. During the sixteenth, and the early part 
of the seventeenth centuries, Ireland was practi- 
cally depopulated by the wars between the Saxons 
and Gaels. The recolonization of this waste coun- 
try was undertaken by English (^ueen Bess, and 
Popham was sent through the English counties to 
organize planter's companies to go o\'er to Ireland 
in that interest. Many of the junior members of 
the landed gentry of Somersetshire found their way 
thither. Among those who went from Somerset- 
shire was John Richmon, or Richmond, who was 



322 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

one of the assignees of Sir Bernard Granville, who 
held a grant of the site of Bandon on the river of 
that name, a locality about twenty miles from Cork. 
Here, at Bandon, a town was erected; and it was 
here, on the site of an ancient Danish fort, that the 
first Protestant church was founded. These Ban- 
don colonists were Puritans, and such were the in- 
fluences under w^iich George Richnion was reared. 
Several of these Bandon Puritans w^ere among those 
who founded the Puritan colony of Massachusetts. 

" George Richmon grew like his ancestry, a sturdy, 
adventurous Englishman. Ultimately he had sailed 
over the sea to New England, and, when he cast 
his anchor, it was in the lee of Champlain's and 
Du Mont's Isle of Bacchus, which, ever since, has 
gone, nominis umbra, by the distinctive name of 
Richmond's Island. Here on the shores of the 
Dominion of Maine, this adventurous Englishman 
engaged in fishing and the accumulation of furs 
and such merchandise as would find a ready sale 
in his own country. He was the first Englishman 
to utilize this island for the purposes of trade, of 
which there is any record. Here he built a ship; 
and it may have l3een three or four years after the 
first voyage of the Mayfloioer, to Plymouth, if one 
washes to locate the date, though there is no reason 
to be exact about it. In this ship he went to 
England. It is probable he made several voyages, 
as incidental to his career; and it w^as not long after 
this, that AValter Bagnall came to the island. He 
purchased Richmon's rights and engaged in barter 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



o O O 



with the Inchans; and by his cupidity and dishonesty, 
soon found himself in had odor. Richnion was soon 
after lost with his vessel on his home voyage to 
England. This Bagnall was exceedingly avaricious; 
and here is where the story of the Pot of Gold begins. 

- Bagnah's desire was for gold, glowing, yellow gold. 

"Dark and swarthy, and repellent in his personal 
appearance, like the child of the Evil One he was 
soon to bec(Hne, he could hardly wait f..r the night to 




ALONG SHORE 



f-dl that he might finger his rapidly accumulating 
store of golden coins. When the falling dusk had 
deepened into the blackness of night, he pulled his 
treasure from its hiding-place, and, pouring its con- 
tents upon the table of oaken deal, he washed his 
hands in the yellow flood, gloating over it, miser- 
like until his soul was steepe<l in the glow oi his 
subtle enj<nanents: and then, with a stealthy glance 
about hi.s kitchen, he hid his gold until the night 
should come again. 



324 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

" One night he became more deeply than ever ab- 
sorbed in his sohtary counting over of his gains. 
The night was rough outside. He was storm-iso- 
lated. The equinoctial had broken on the coast; 
and the winds howled and shrieked down the wide- 
mouthed chimney; the rain rattled and smote gust- 
ily against the rough log-gable; and the sea pounded 
across the bar to the mainland, to make the solid 
shores throb under the shock of the heavy waters; 
ever and anon, throwing the spray in sibilant sheets 
against the low eaves of the cabin. On the flat 
stone hearth the fire made fitful glow; and the single 
candle-flame quivered and shrunk to a sinuous thread 
under the stress of some random draught. 

" Anon a bolt of living fire shot across the narrow 
glazing of a single window; and then, the noise of a 
jagged explosion, rolled down earthward, a roulade 
of dislocated sounds that broke and fell away in 
peals of deafening reverberation, landward, and over 
the foam-streaks above the churning seas. There 
was a lull in the wild storm, and the miser fingered 
his gold anew, and his soul cried, 'More! More!' 
and his gold filtered through his fingers again and 
again, until his heart was hot with desire. 

"Another break of livid flame flooded the low- 
ceiled kitchen, and about the rough walls tongues of 
blue fire curled and twisted, uncannily. They over- 
ran the table of oaken deal, and the yellow of Bag- 
nail's gold was the ruddiness of blood, each coin a 
huge corpuscle, a splotch of dire red. The perspira- 
tion that oozed from Bagnall's finger-tips had a 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 325 

vif^cid feel, as if they were fresh fi'oin some foul deed. 
Bagnall's hair stood on end, each one a sprite of 
living fear. The cabin swayed from side to side like 
a boat at sea, and, with a final shudder, the toppling 
wick of the candle fell inert and flameless. 

" But Bagnall was not alone. 

"Before the dying embers stood a gentleman 
garbed from head to foot in crimson velvet. 

''Bagnall began to gather up his gold, which, 
strange to say, glowed in the semi-dusk with a mild 
phosphorescence, piling the coins into his bag between 
his knees under the table, while between his chatter- 
ing teeth came the audible exclamation, 'The Devil!' 

'"If you please, and your very humble servant, 
sir, — and, by the way, friend Bagnall there is no 
hurry,' whereat the Devil picked up the candlestick, 
straightened the wick, and blew slightly upon it, 
and it was again alight. 

" Bagnall, speechless in his amazement, began to 
survey his visitor with more calmness. 

"'Don't mind me, Bagnall. I'm only calling on a 
few of my friends. Suppose you count that gold 
over again, Bagnall.' 

"The bag dropped to the floor with a smothered 
ring of its contents, as Bagnall muttered, 'Gold! 
what gold!' 

"The Devil snapped his fingers and the bag w^as 
on the table, and before its owner could reclaim it, 
it was upside down, held by an invisible hand, and 
the golden coins were running from it a steady stream. 

" Bagnall's fear was dissipated. Here was more, 



326 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

and MORE. But, at last the bag was emptied; and 
in its emptiness, it fell prone upon the yellow pile 
that scintillated with light of the living smi. 

"'You asked for more?' inquired the Devil, smiling 
in his evident pleasure at Bagnall's surprise. 

" ' You must be the , ' was Bagnall's broken 

exclamation. 

"'Bah! what's in a name? There's a fehow over 
across the water, who has just written some very 
clever things. I believe he says a rose would smell 
as sweet by any other name, — very good, too, — 
I am inclined to think the idea is not new. It had 
occurred to me when Adam and Eve were on my list, 
but, say, Bagnall, — is it more, and more still, that 
you desire?' 

"'More what?' replied Bagnall, evasively. 

" ' Don't be shy, man, — I've known you for a long 
while, and you are one of my sort, — I have a mind 
to make a bargain with you.' 

" Bagnall was silent, but his eyes wandered from 
the Devil's face to the pile of glowing coin on the 
table, and his hands went out to clutch the trebled 
hoard. As he gathered his hands full of the yellow 
metal, each separate disc became instantly a tawny 
reptile that scurried off the table to the floor to hide 
in the crevices with which it seemed abundantly sup- 
plied. 

"Bagnall's terror had returned. 

" ' Rather elusive stuff, isn't it, Bagnall, — see here, 
my friend, the Styx is the principal river in my do- 
minions, and it rises in the gold mines of the world, — 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 327 

I am the God of Gold, man! If you wish gold, you 
can have your fill in a short time.' 

"'Can I be sure of that?' was Bagnall's eager in- 
quiry. 

'' ' Certainly, sir, — a little matter of business be- 
tween us, — I desire security, of course, — your sig- 
nature, — that's all — you'll be in good company, 
Bagnall, — very good company, indeed!' 

"One by one the coins I'esumed their place in the 
pile on the table, which was noted by Bagnall with 
increasing satisfaction, though he was restrained by 
a wholesome fear of the man in crimson. 

" ' You can handle the coins, Bagnall,' suggested 
the Devil, benevolently. 'And, by the way, I can 
make you the richest man in the Dominion of Maine, 
or in the New World, for that matter, — you love 
gold, — and why not. But I am making a longer 
stay than I intended. I have an engagement, — a 
little bond to foreclose, and, of course, if you are not 
ready for business now, some other time will do.' 

"Bagnall fingered the gold, nervously, yet caress- 
ingly, his eyes snapping and glowing like the red 
coals that had for the moment lighted up among the 
dusky brands. The coins rang true, with no evident 
disposition to crawl off the table. For all the lively 
pleasure Bagnall openly evinced at the reality of this 
abundance of wealth visible, he was possessed with 
mental reservation to drive the best bargain he could 
with the Devil, who was feeding his propensity for 
evil gains with a (lii)lomatic persistency, and an in- 
genuity possil)le only to the Devil himself. 



328 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY^ 

"Bagnall's heart was throbbing hkewise with a 
tremulous fear of his visitor's purpose, and yet, the 
cry of his soul was, — ' More, more!' 

" Satan had in the meantime not been idle. From 
some hidden repository about his person the con- 
tract had been produced, and unrolling it, he had 
placed it upon the pile of glittering coin; but the 
parchment was of so transparent a texture that the 
tempting bait was plainly visible through it. How 
the gold burned and shone! Its glory filled the 
room, to dazzle and intoxicate Bagnall with its 
glamour, — fool's gold. 

"'Sign there, BagnaU,' murmured Satan, his voice 
softly alluring, like the strain of music, and instantly 
the parchment became opaque, and as firm as a slab 
of ivory. 

" ' What do I get out of it?' suggested Bagnall with 
greedy cunning. 

" ' Get ! ' and the Devil stripped a splinter of wood 
from the firestick that leaned against a blackened 
jamb, — 'You see that earthen pot on the dresser?' 
pointing a single finger at the bit of rude ware, and 
from the tip of that outstretched digit, a single spark 
flew straight as an arrow to its mark, to illumine its 
flaring rim overbrimming with heaped-up discs as 
yellow as those that lay so securely within his reach. 

"'Yes.' 

" ' Well, then, in consideration of your duly con- 
stituted bond to enter my service, and to continue 
ob(MUently in the same, and to deliver up yourself, 
body and soul to my disposal: I, of the second part, 



'YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 329 

will fill that pot with gold every Friday night so 
long as you live, but, with this reservation, that I 
find a few coins in the bottom of the pot at my com- 
ing ; ' and, wetting the end of the splinter with the 
tip of his tongue, he handed it to Bagnall, who, after 
a moment of hesitation, had affixed his scrawling 
signature. 

"'This gold is mine,' said Bagnall, drawing the 
pile closer. 

" ' Certainly, as well as that in yonder pot, — you 
are satisfied, now, I suppose,' said the Devil. 

" ' And you won't forget to come as you have prom- 
ised,' replied Bagnall, in a somewhat doubtful manner. 

" ' Oh, I won't forget, — and, mark you, sirrah,'^ 
said the Devil, harshly, 'I know your tricks, and 
your cheating methods in trade ; so cheat your neigh- 
bors, and the poor Indian, at your leisure, but don't 
try to cheat the Devil. Remember he is to be 
reckoned with, to the letter. He is an exacting 
master; and once more, don't forget to leave a few 
coins in the pot. It is so nominated in the bond.' 

" * That is easy enough. My soul belonged to your 
highness anyway, and I'm only getting my own. 
I'm glad you took the trouble to make me a visit,' 
said Bagnall, with an easy assumption of boldness. 

"'Now,' said Satan, folding his bond carefully, 
' pass that mug at your elbow, — let's have a health 
to the bond. After you, my dear Bagnall.' 

"Bagnall choked at the first gulp. His rum had 
changed to liquid fire, and his tongue was too large 
for his mouth. 



3oU y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

" The Devil laughed a merry laugh, and then raised 
the mug to his own lips, to send across its rim a 
gentle respiration, which Bagnall could liken to 
nothing but the yellow reptiles that he saw crawling 
off his table, while from the mug, itself, burst forth 
a bluish flame. The Devil quaffed his brew with a 
single swallow. 

" 'Excellent rum, Bagnall, and very much to my 
taste. By the way, Bagnall, — count your gold!' 

" And the trader fell to counting the coins. When 
he next looked up, he was alone with his gold; and, 
except for the size of the pile before him, he would 
have declared he had dropped asleep to dream of the 
Devil, as he often did after his heavier potations. 

"Saturday morning seemed a long way off, but 
when it came, the earthen pot was brimming with 
strange-looking coins stamped with the effigies of 
an, to him, unknown people. 

" Satan had kept his word, and after that, Bagnall 
failed not to leave a few coins in the pot; and his 
hoard grew rapidly, so rapidly that he began to be 
terrified for fear his good luck would get abroad in 
the province; so what he coveted most, was like to 
be a curse. The weeks grew into months, and the 
Devil had not failed a scintilla of his contract. 

" One Saturday, he was up before the break of day ; 
Bagnall's wife was sleeping soundly, and standing 
before the dresser, he glanced eagerly at the old 
earthen pot, to discover it was empty. He lifted 
it with sudden anger. He shook it, as he knew the 
Devil must have done many times on his weekly 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY ool 

visitations, but there was no response of the loose 
bits of gold. The Devil had done the same thing 
before him, to mildly, smilingly soliloquize, — ' It 
was so nominated in the bond,' and away he went 
to visit his next debtor. 

''Bagnall discovered something the Devil over- 
looked, however. His wife had poured some rem- 
nants of the treacle-jar into the pot, and the coins, 
though there, were smothered to silence in the sticky 
sediment. 

"A storm was brewing along the southern hori- 
zon, and unconsciously Bagnall was computing time. 
It had been a year and a day the Devil had owned 
him, body and soul, and the more he thought of it, 
the more his heart and courage failed him. Out 
across the island hummocks he went to one of the 
hiding-places he had selected for his treasure. Down 
on his knees, he pushed the dirt aside, — but the 
yellow gold, it was gone. .\nd so he went, from 
hoard to hoard, and all were gone, all but the trifling 
handful he remembered counting on that fateful 
night when he added his name to the list of Satan's 
bonded servants. 

"The days came and went, and Bagnall grew 
harder with his debtors. He sold poorer rum, and 
more of it. He cheated the Indians of their peltry. 
He scanted his weight and doubled his charges, so 
that they who once disliked him, now feared him. 

"But the Devil was not idle. He had not for- 
gotten. 

" He knew Squidrayset's medicine-man. He bor- 



332 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

rowed his garb and began to prophesy. The trader, 
Bagnall was at the bottom of their lean maize and 
their empty snares. The totem of the tribe had 
whispered this in his ears. If BagnaU were killed, 
the maize would grow fat, and the singing-birds 
would tell them where the otter, the beaver, and 
the mink made their new homes. The old days, 
before the white man came, would return; and their 



warriors would multiply like the sands of the sea- 
shore; Bagnall was a little snake, with the belly of 
a whale, — he would swallow them all. 

" And the Devil's leaven wrought the murder of 
Bagnall; and the nomination in the bond was ful- 
filled. 

"But," said the Troll, " that is a matter of history, 
and you can tell that to suit yourself; but the old 
cracked pot ploughed up in 1855 on Richmond's 



YB ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 333 

Island was the same that stood for a year and a 
day on BagnaU's dresser; and the same that Squid- 
rayset dropped on his way to the bar that con- 
nected the island to the mainland, after the judg- 
ment of his tribe had been visited on the dishonest 
trader. The coins now in charge of the curator, 
are the same that were last left in the pot by Bag- 
nail, and which were so long held prisoner in the 
dried-up treacle, which, by the intervention of a 
woman, was the means of the trader's ruin. 

"Truth is stranger than fiction," said the old 
Troll; whereat he placed the stub of his finger to 
one eye, and with a half-wink, faded away as he 
came, imperceptibly, into the silence of the deep- 
ening dusk. 




THE PASSING OF BAGNALL 











\^( -^ 




THE PASSING OF BAGNALL 

O leave a neighboring town some 
summer afternoon by the Packet 
Line, — a coastwise saihng trio of 
steamers, — taking one of its more 
commo(Uous vessels for a night trip, 
is one of restful pleasure. There 
is much to see in the charm of the 
fading day when the roofs and towers 
( )f the old town are darkly, but crisply 
et ched against the ruddy background 
of a sky as beautiful, in its soft brilliancy, it is safe to 
say, as any that may be seen in romantic Italy; and 
out through the Roads, one may see nuich that is 
not laid down on the navigation chart of the Gov- 
ernment Coast Survey with its mysteries of triangu- 
lations, topography, and hydrography; for in the 
place of its plain surface of white, are the dancing 
waters of the bay, and its hieroglyphics of black 
diamonds and dots are metamorphosed into black 
and red-painted buoys, that bob to one side and 
another, in a tipsy sort of fashion; and into pyramid- 
shaped bits of open iron-work, with dolorous-sound- 

387 



338 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

iiig bells suspended from the inner apex of each, that 
ring incessantly when the winds are high, chiving 
the waves into hillocks, up and down which the bell- 
buoys climb, wearily, as if tired utterly of such a 
restless life; while the lines, that mark the contour 
of the coast, black, hard, and faintly suggestive, are 
but the symbols of numberless coves, inlets, and rocky 
points that possess all the fascination common to the 
sands, the bluffs and headlands, and the marshes that 
own the sea for their next-door neighbor. 

Once past a bit of granite breakwater that takes 
the brunt of the in-racing, storm-driven waters upon 
itself, with its little white nob of a tower at the outer 
end, and its revolving light that seems saying all 
night long to the home-coming sailor, — '' Don't run 
into me!" the vessel runs the harmless gantlet of 
gray stone fortifications with grass-grown bastions, 
black unmounted cannon, and piles of dressed and 
roughly-quarried rock about their dilapidated, or 
forsaken docks. Beyond the unfinished forts are 
many beautiful Queen Anne cottages, their red roofs 
making warm patches of color against the massy back- 
ground of the naturally-grouped elms, the more beau- 
tiful, that Nature has here had her own way. Leav- 
ing Ram Island to seaward, and following the curving 
trend of the mainland past Catfish Rock and Ship 
Cove on either hand, with the newly-lighted lamps 
of the twin lighthouses glimmering above the dusky 
purple of the sea a mile away, one is at last on the 
open water, with all its limitless expanse before. It 
is a treacherous sea for all that, for, opposite a main- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY ool) 

land point that bears the coninionplace cognomen of 
Chimney Rock, are a hah-score of sunken ledges that 
lurk, in a villanous sort of a way, just under the sur- 
face of the waters, waiting to impale some unfortunate 
ship on their ragged needles. 

These pictures of sea and shore glow and strengthen 
as one calls to mind some red-letter day when the 
painter, who sets his easel in the secrets of the eye, 
made a host of sketches to store away in the folios 
that crowd the every-day living-rooms of the House 
in the Brain, — art treasures indeed, fresh from an 
outdoor easel, the like of which some people seem 
never to have discovered. 

The traveller by ship to eastward, must needs 
pass an island a few miles off the shores of old Scar- 
borough, of considerable imj^ortance in the early days 
of the discovery and settlement of the country 
adjacent. Now, only a single habitation is to be 
noticed, where were once rude wharves and ample 
storehouses for fish and furs; foi' Richmond's Island, 
in the time of the English Trelawneys, was, along 
with Monhegan and Pemaquid, one of the few trad- 
ing stations along the New England Coast. The 
curing of cod, hake, and haddock, and the rendering 
of train-oil were the principal industries. Very lu- 
crative employments they proved to be. 

John Winter, Robert Trelawney's local agent, 
apparently had an eye double to his own interest, 
even if he possessed one single for his master, — 
which, after a perusal of those admirable "Trelaw- 
ney Papers" of Mr. Baxter's editing, might be thought 



340 



y^ ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 



to be a matter of grave doubt, — for, TrelaAvney, 
slii'ewd and successful as a London merchant, lost 
everything to Winter, profitable as the venture turned 
out later to be, to the latter and his heirs. Trehiw- 
ney, an ardent adherent of Charles I, saw, in addi- 
tion to his New England losses, his star fall with 
that of his king, until, under the Cromwellian interest 
and influence, it disappeared under the Usurpation 
into that opaque obscurity that follows the complete 
downfall of a great poHtical sovereignty. 




Captain John Smith thought it a great coast for 
fish as early as 1614: and, in writing of the industry 
of the region, says, — '' and is it not pretty sport 
to pull up two-pence, six-pence, and twelve-pence 
as fast as you can haul and throw a line?" Before 
Winter came to renew the commerce begun by George 
Richmon, and later carried on by Walter Bagnall, 
fishing had been very profitable; but with Winter's 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



Ul 



coining, cargoes began to be wafted over seas from 
England and Spain, — salt, liquors, fine stuffs for 
wearing; and even arms for soldiers, and uniforms, 
if one may credit Winter in his accounting to his 
principal. 

Bagnall, as above intimated, had settled here 
some time before the Trelawney and Goodyere Patents 
had been issued, and traded with the Indians to his 
considerable profit; although in a way to give him 
an unsavory reputation; and which, a few years 







^r.#i^^^. 



later, brought upon him a terrible retaliation, no 
less terrible than unexpected. Bagnall was found 
one morning in his kitchen, foully nnuTlered. Guilty 
of extortion and dishonesty in his transactions with 
the rude sons of Nature whom he found here, his 



342 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

retribution was hardly less swift than perhaps well- 
merited. 

Of the many who came to barter their peltry for 
English muskets and annnunition, the crime has 
been laid at the door of the Sagamore Squidrayset, 
-- a summary vengeance to take upon even so dis- 
reputable a character as Bagnall seems to have pos- 
sessed. But the crime, if such it can be called, in 
the absence of proper court of inquiry, may have 
been connnitted in just such a low-browed habita- 
tion as its solitary dwelling of the days when I fre- 
cjuented its shores for a day's sport on the marshes, 
— an old weather-worn house that seemed always 
to be looking oceanward through its narrow win- 
dows, with no other sign of human interest about 
it tlian the thin ribbon of smoke from its lone chim- 
ney-top, that seemed ever hastening after some van- 
ishing sail in the offing, blown on, and on, until the 
slenderly-wooded rib of Front's Neck fails to follow 
its mystery. 

Front's Neck and Black Point are honorable land- 
marks of colonial history, and are not without their 
local tragedies, enacted when Mogg Megone, and 
the outlaw, Johnny Bonython, were alive to put 
their heads together to outwit the English settler. 
Scarborough country was afterward known as the 
"bloody ground, "for here were enacted many a 
dark and gruesome deed in the times of the Indian 
forays. 

There is a grim justice in the trial of Bagnall in 
the rudely-timbered kitchen of the old trading-house, 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



> i Q 



by these untutored children of the woods; and in 
the gloomy secrecy of the night-time, with no one 
to motion a stay of proceedings in the accused's 
behalf. As one thinks nowadays of the corruption 
in high places, and the leniency of courts, and juries, 
it is natural to revert to the more primitive days 
when Justice gave unsparing judgment, and some- 
times erringly; yet, blind as she was reputed to be, 
her judgments were duly executed. 

What a grim picture, this grinnner episode of 







colonial life, — the darkness of the night; the iso- 
lated island hedged about by the gleaming phospho- 
rescence of the sea; the black landings and the dark- 
some group of storehouses; their lonely tenant, and, 
the murder! Peaceful times! So Bagnall thought. 
In the low-studded room, the stout oaken beams 
that reach across the ceiling, seamed with deep 
shadows, catch the fitful glow of the smouldering 
logs piled against the broad back of the dingy fire- 
place. The trader drowses in his three-cornered 
chair, while the like dingy clock in its corner tells an 
hour that lacks one of midnight. Its loud striking 



344 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

falls unheeded upon the ear of the keeper of these 
storehouses; and the regular accents of its slow- 
swinging pendulum grow sharper and more acute as 
the shadows deepen among the kitchen cross-beams, 
for the fire is dying on the hearth, — a silent proph- 
ecy of the going-out of another flame, and the 
stilling of a hand that will never again coax these 
waning brands into life, and genial warmth. There 
is a sound of moaning, uneasy waters on the sands 
below the fishy ards; an undertone of complaining 
as of smothered speech; and the wind, damp with 
the unerring prophecies of the coming tempest, has 
an ominous threat, a surly hint of danger about it, 
as it blows up from the sea against the landward 
gables of the Bagnall settlement. Black clouds scud 
over the low roofs, smiting the single, square-topped 
chimney with noisy buffetings, coaxing its single 
thread of pungent smoke to steal away with noise- 
less going, and the wind still hastening on with its 
ill-fraught message. The sleeper drops his head 
lower, lower still; his drowsing has deepened into 
slumber. An old pewter mug on the oaken deal 
table, just within reach, that has an odor of rum, 
knows why its master sleeps so soundly when he 
should have been wide awake, if ever. It is a long 
sleep, and a heavy one. There is still a glimmer 
of stars, far-off and fearful, beyond the little square 
window ; and had Bagnall been awake, he might have 
seen the limning of dusky faces upon its glazing. 

There are noiseless fingers at the bobbin, and the 
latch is unloosed; and creeping as noiselessly over 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 845 

the threshold, come the avengers, — a hah'-score of 
painted savages, who gather as noiselessly about 
their victim, to look with long, greedy, and silent 
gaze upon the sleeper, with a hatred that tinges 
his dreams with troul^le. Bagnall's drowsing grows 
fitful under the subtle influences that are impelling 
him toward waking, with such unwelcome company 
about, of whose presence he is as yet unconscious. 
Some occult oj^erator is telegraphing over one nerve 
circuit and another the premonition of danger; but 
Bagnall drowses uneasily. The clock ticks on; the 
wooden wheels creak and groan in grim protest; but 
Bagnall sleeps on. Only the breaking brands on 
the hearth disturb the rliythmic monotone of the 
swinging pendulum, while their smokes swirl into the 
throat of the chimney, an endless thread of gray 
that is being unwound by the Fates on to the reel 
of the winds that now come in strong gusts. There 
is a dash of rain on the window. There is a low 
muttering of thunder to landward. 

Like statues stand these dusky figures in the deep- 
ening shadows, l^iding the slow awakening of him 
whose sleep is crowded with weird vagaries, as his 
insentient self is liemmed al)out with a cordon of 
painted demons. See, — the doomed man twists and 
turns, as if his chair were one of inciuisitorial torture! 
He nuitters the name of Squidrayset. Thei'e are 
other strange sounds that drop from Bagnall's lips; 
but they are lost in the beating of the storm on the 
battened roof. The big, wet droi)s fall into the hot 
ashes, with a hiss and sputter. 



346 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

The clock has begun the twelve strokes of mid- 
night, that time when ghosts come out of their 
graves to haunt the old familiar places. 

Sss-t! The lightning! It comes so near, one can 
hear the flap of its livid wings; the room is flooded 
with a tremulous, pallid halo. A deafening peal, 
and Bagnall is at last awake. With blurred vision 
he notes his unheralded visitors. At this untimely 
hour they bode no good to him. There is a wild 
cry of terror, — a wilder struggle in the darkness, — 
and the trader is thrown and pinioned into his chair. 
The fire is replenished, — 

" With the yellow knots of the pitch-pine tree, 
Whose flaring Ught, as they kindle, falls, — " 

on the rough stones of the broad jamb with its cav- 
ernous, sooty flue, that yawns like the entrance tO' 
some den of torture; on the black cross-timbers; on 
the hemlock floors; up and down the rough mud- 
plastered wall, against which stand out in sharp 
silhouette the burly shapes of the Indians. 

"Ugh!" 

It is the sign. The himting-knives are out-thrust 
in the ruddy firelight. Their baleful gleaming is 
the silent announcement that Bagnall's arraignment 
is over. The circle narrows about its victim. Now, 
the verdict. The swift flashing of a dozen cruel 
blades, — a cry of despairing agony, — then the 
silence of the midnight falls, — the supreme influence 
of the hour. 

Is this tallest, broadest-shouldered savage, Scit- 



r^^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY o47 

terygusset, Sachem of the Fresumpscots, or Mogg, the 
sachem of the Saco kinds? Was it poor Ruth Bony- 
thon's father, the unscrupulous outlaw, who has thus 
settled his account with the man who gave him 
fire-water for his peltry? 

The nmrder done, its doers steal away as quietly 
as they came, to be swallowed up in the gloom that 
held Bagnall in like obscurity. 

The sun rose over the waters with the next dawn, 
and set over Scarborough woods with the next even- 
tide, with only this picture between, — 

"The low, bare flats at ebb tide. 
The rush of the sea at flood. 
Through inlet and creek and river, 
From dike to upland wood; 
The gulls in the red of morning, 
The fish-hawk's rise and fall, — " 

with never a sail in sight. 

The old wharves and storehouses have long since 
disappeared, with never a sign of them left, although 
the spot is still pregnant with curious conjecture. 

All this is occurrent of the year 1631, and the 
records are so definite that the day of the month is 
designated. It was on the third day of October 
that Walter Bagnall was called to render an account 
of his stewardship. 

Justice in this case was slow, but in part sure. 
Two years later, one of the free-booters of the coast 
began cruising off and on Pemaquid; and, according 
to Winthrop, an expedition was fitted out at Boston 



348 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



and despatched to intercept the pirate. Upon the 
return of the expedition, it stopped at Richmond's 
Island, and while there. Black Will, one of Bagnall's 
murderers was swung to the winds " without forni 
of law or benefit of clergy." This was contemporary 
with the establishment of the Trelawney interests, 
that, under the direction of John Winter, was to 
form the nucleus of an important settlement, that 
widened out, until the Indian and French raids of 
1690 had devastated Casco ; with the result, that all 
the intervening country between that settlement of 
Cleeve, and the Storer Garrison, was depopulated, 
and Richmond's Island once more deserted. 




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